


Bernie and Serena Move to Wales

by helenlath



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenlath/pseuds/helenlath
Summary: Bernie and Serena arrive home from their Italian Holiday to find an invitation to Ric Griffin's retirement party awaits them. At first Bernie is reluctant to go, but realises that as Serena's fiancee she has a duty to accompany her. A couple of days spent in Holby prior to the party enables Bernie to visit her son, Cameron, whose behaviour worries her. The visit also causes Serena to worry unnecessarily that things she said to Cameron in anger will get back to Bernie. Meanwhile the bigger question of whether they will sell Serena's house in Holby and buy a property together occupies them. Where they eventually move to, the continuing misunderstandings they have regarding their relationship, plus the appearance of one or two faces from the past form  the spine of this story. Ultimately there is a happy ending.
Relationships: Cameron Dunn & Bernie Wolfe, Serena Campbell/Alex Dawson/Bernie Wolfe, Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 21
Kudos: 109





	1. Emeralds and Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

> I'm happy that so many readers enjoyed Bernie and Serena go on Holiday.  
> I've wondered what might be in store for them after their holiday. The story of their house move is the result. I have changed the original title "Serena and Bernie Move House" to "Serena and Bernie Move to Wales" as the story is progressing beyond just their house move. Hope you enjoy.  
> Tom the Cat fans will be pleased that he is at reunited with Serena and will soon have a companion named Colin.

“It’s good to be home,” Serena said, putting a match to the kindling in the wood burner. She sat back on her haunches watching the flames lick the logs before closing the door. “It’s certainly feels chilly after Italy.”  
“Mmm,”replied Bernie lazily. “What shall we eat for supper? I’ll cook if you can you bear more spaghetti? It’s one thing I can manage cook without anything going wrong.”  
“Spaghetti is fine darling. In fact anything with you is more than fine.” Her voice took on a suggestive drawl. “Come here and let me kiss you.” Bernie dropped onto the fireside rug and put her arms around Serena. Kneeling, they kissed tenderly until Bernie complained of an ache in her knees.  
“I do so hate getting older,” she grumbled. The pair struggled to their feet and repositioned themselves on the large sofa  
“I’m hungry. I’m going to cook that spaghetti. We have tomatoes, olives, chilli flakes and parmesan, is that okay?”  
“Wonderful darling. There is basil growing in the pot by the back door and you might find garlic bread in the freezer.”  
Bernie disappeared into the kitchen. Serena sat back listening to the comfortingly domestic sounds of pans clattering. It really was good to be home. Their jaunt to Italy in the VW camper had been perfect. They had visited Verona, Assisi and Florence on the way down to the Abruzzi region, Rome on the way back. In between had been a perfect week in the exquisite Abruzzi, where, amazingly, she had found herself accepting Bernie’s proposal of marriage. She sank into the cushions and stroked Tom contentedly.  
Bernie appeared with two large bowls. “Here you are,” she announced, “Oh good, the wine is open.”  
“That was delicious,” Serena said later, “Whore’s spaghetti.”  
“I beg your pardon!”  
“That’s the name of the spaghetti dish we’ve just eaten. Puttanesca, which means whore’s spaghetti. A simple dish from Naples made with store cupboard ingredients.”  
“Well, there you go, another classic dish I can add to my culinary repertoire. You are very good for me Serena, ramping up my cooking skills no end.”  
“You didn’t look after yourself very well when I first met you.”  
“Afraid not. I was too used to army catering. When I was home on leave I didn’t do much cooking either. Marcus was so used to feeding himself and the children while I was away so he just carried on as usual.”  
Serena took Bernie’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come,” she said, “we’ll leave the washing up. The holiday was wonderful but after three weeks sleeping in the van I am looking forward to making love to you in the comfort of our own bed.”  
#  
“Blasted emails,” muttered Serena the next morning. “That is the drawback for not checking them on holiday. I’ve such a backlog to deal with. Jason has messaged to say that he and Greta are ready to move back to the flat. Guinevere will be starting nursery next term and the flat is much nearer than my house. I’ll have to drive up to collect the cat.”  
“Can I come with you?” Bernie asked. “Charlotte still has some things of mine from the cottage which I’d like.”  
“Of course you can come. No need to ask. In fact, read this,” Serena pushed her laptop across the table so that Bernie could see the screen. She frowned as she read the page.  
“Oh. You’ll go, of course.”  
“We’ll both go. The invitation says that I can bring a guest. The only reason you are not named is because this is from HR. Everyone who knows us will be expecting us to be there together.”  
“That’s what I’m bothered about. I’ll feel as though I’m on show. A freak. The woman who came back from the dead.”  
“Oh darling, it won’t be like that at all. People will be thrilled to see you. Ric will be so disappointed if you are not at his retirement party. We’ll stay at my house, relieve Jason of his cat sitting duties and bring Tom home with us. You can see Charlotte, I’ll enjoy some time with my great niece, and we’ll both have a ball at Ric’s party.” Serena clapped her hands in delight.  
Bernie relented. The retirement party of a longstanding friend and colleague had to be attended. Serena’s Holby friends were Bernie’s friends too, or had been, until she had deserted Serena in favour of the African continent. Most importantly, Serena had very recently agreed to become Bernie’s wife. They were a couple; of course Bernie had to accompany her.  
#  
Serena and Bernie waved farewell until the Greta’s blue Astra, packed high with the family’s belongings, rounded the bend at the end of the leafy avenue. They had spent a pleasant afternoon in the garden with Jason and Greta, taking turns to push Guinevere on the swing.  
“They all look well,” Serena said contentedly, “Guinevere has grown so since I saw her last, it’s hard to believe she’ll be at nursery very soon.”  
“They’ll find the flat small after so many months living here,” mused Bernie, “though at least they have a garden for Guin.”  
“The flat is much closer to the nursery. Greta will be able to walk with the push chair. If they stayed here she would have to drive. Besides, it never was a permanent arrangement; just so that Jason had his own bedroom and bathroom during the height of the epidemic.”  
The pair returned to the sitting room with its traditional three piece suite, swagged curtains and chandelier lighting. The few choice ornaments Serena possessed had been put away out of Guinevere’s enquiring reach.  
Bernie flopped onto the L-shaped sofa.  
“It’s a bit different to the cottage,” she remarked.  
“In a good way, I hope,” Serena said.  
“Of course, it’s lovely, I’ve always liked your house,” Bernie reassured her. “Though you  
have to admit, the cottage is cosy despite being cluttered and a bit shabby.”  
"Perhaps because it’s cluttered and shabby,” Serena conceded although in her former life as an ultra successful surgeon and chief medical officer she wouldn’t have given house room to faded curtains and shabby, mismatched furniture.  
“What sort of houses are we going to look at if we sell this one and buy together,” Bernie asked. “Modern, period, rambling garden or easily maintained yard?”  
“I think our first priority is deciding where,” Serena said in a measured tone, “and that rather depends on where we find employment. More pressing, where do we live in the meantime. We still have quite some time to run on the lease in Cornwall, so could stay there and put this place on the market now. Or we could live here and ask if we can terminate the lease early.” They hesitated only fractionally before saying in unison, “Cornwall.”  
Serena joined Bernie on the sofa. Tom the cat saw this as an invitation to jump up and wriggle his way into the space between them, purring loudly. Bernie scratched his belly.  
“He likes me, doesn’t he?” cried Bernie delightedly.  
“I thought you detested cats.”  
“This one’s alright.”  
Serena stroked Tom’s head affectionately, “I’ve missed you,” she murmured, “did you miss me, sweet boy?” Bernie snuggled closer to Serena. “Though I love Cornish cottage,” she said, leaning over Tom and nuzzling Serena’s ear, "it is rather nice to be back in your house. It brings back some very pleasant memories.” She leaned in closer causing Tom to leap to the floor. “Can we see if this sofa is as big and comfortable as I remember it?” Serena sank deeper into the cushions and pulled Bernie towards her. “And afterwards,” she whispered, “you can come upstairs and help me look through the clothes I left here. I need to wear something spectacular for Ric’s party.  
“You look amazing!” Bernie gasped as Serena paraded in a jade green strapless evening dress which flattered her brown eyes and displayed the dark tan which she had developed in Italy. “I’m not sure what I’ll wear. I’ll have to look through that suitcase I collected from Charlotte. Serena, do you mind if I go to see Cam tomorrow? It makes sense since I’m already halfway there.”  
“Of course not darling." As an afterthought she added, " Would you like me to come with you?” Bernie looked uncomfortable. “Thankyou, but no,” she replied. “I think that I need to see Cam on my own. Charlotte hinted that he is going through a rough time. He has found it more difficult than her to deal with everything. Sons seem so much more fragile than daughters.”  
“I wouldn’t know, " Serena said drily.  
“Oh Serena, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.” Bernie was remorseful.  
“It’s alright darling. I only meant that the nearest I have to a son is Jason and he is rather a special case. Besides we can’t spend the rest of our lives with you worried to talk about your children because my Elinor is dead. You go and see Cam and give him my love. Oh, and Bernie, we were both a rather stressed at the hospital before I left." "Okay," Bernie said, puzzled. #  
Bernie left for Kent the following morning after having ascertained what shifts Cameron was working that day. He had left Holby City Hospital at the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic to work in one of the new Nightingale hospitals in Bromley. From there he had moved to the Kent and Canterbury Hospital  
“Hi Mum.” Cam opened the door to allow her into the flat he had bought. She was shocked at how much weight he had lost. He had always been slender but now his collar bones projected beneath the fabric of his tee shirt and his face was gaunt. His face, usually clean shaven, now carried a growth of stubble, not of the designer kind.  
“Mum, come on in,” he gave her a wan smile. She looked around the flat.  
“Very nice,” she said. It was indeed a very nice flat with a well-proportioned room opening onto a balcony overlooking a green area. It was obvious however, that Cam had inherited her inept housekeeping skills. Charlotte, on the other hand, took after her father and was a natural home-maker. Her terraced house in Holby was always clean and tidy and made comfortable with cushions, throws and ornaments.  
“Sorry about the mess,” Cam said, casting a rueful eye over the unwashed crockery in the sink, empty pizza box and beer cans on the sticky table top. “Late shift last night. Coffee?”  
“Please.” She noticed his hand trembling as he filled the kettle. “How is the new job going?” she asked him.  
“Alright,” he replied, yawning. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night.”  
They sat hugging their coffee mugs in uncomfortable silence. “It’s good to see you Mum,” Cameron said at last.  
“Is it? You seem a bit on edge.”  
“I told you, I’m just tired,” he replied irritably. “I must say you have driven a long way to see me. I take it you want something, that this isn’t just a social call.”  
“I wanted to see you, Cam,” she said gently. “I’m staying in Holby for a few days. It seemed like a good opportunity to visit you. ”  
“What are you doing in Holby?” he asked testily  
“Serena still lives there technically, remember,” she replied gently. “We are staying at her house and going to Ric Griffin’s retirement party tomorrow evening.”  
“Oh, he’s decided to go at last. Mum, if anyone should ask about me, there’s no need to say exactly where I’m working.”  
“Why not Cam? You’re not on the run are you?” It was a joke, but he looked startled.  
“No, of course not,” he replied hurriedly, “it’s just that I made a clean break with Holby. How is Serena?”  
“She’s wonderful,” Bernie said softly. “In fact Cam, that’s partly why I came. To tell you that Serena and I are going to marry.”  
“She’s forgiven you then! She was very vicious last time she spoke to me about you. Told me that you were no hero, that you were stupid and selfish and deserved to be blown up". "Really. Maybe she was right." Bernie wondered what had caused this outburst from Serena. Before she could ask Cameron, however, he looked at his watch and stood up. " Sorry Mum, I’ve got things to do, I’m on duty in a couple of hours. It’s been good to see you.”  
Bernie was hurt at this curt dismissal. “I was hoping to take you to lunch Cam.”  
“Sorry. Can’t do.”  
“That’s a shame, another time, maybe. Before I go though, Charlotte says you still have some of my jewellery from the cottage. I’d like it please. I need something for Ric’s party.”  
Cameron went into his bedroom and she heard the sound of a drawer opening. He returned with a black velvet jewellery pouch.  
“It’s all there,” he said testily, “I haven’t sold anything or given anything away.”  
“It wouldn’t matter if you had, Cam,” she reassured him. “For a long while you were under the misapprehension that it was your property anyway.”  
“Quite true,” he said in a tone which made Bernie realise that it was Cameron, not Serena, who had not managed to forgive her.  
“Goodbye Cam,” she said, kissing him. “I love you. Never forget that.”

Meanwhile Serena was finding the house a lonely place. For a while after Bernie’s departure she remained burrowed beneath the duvet. The day stretched before her with so many hours to kill. Though she had been sincere in saying that she didn’t mind Bernie visiting Cameron, deprived of Bernie’s presence, she was lost.  
In the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, she picked Tom up and cuddled him.  
“She’s gone to see her son,” Serena whispered into the silky fur, “and I’m ashamed to admit this, but I am envious, jealous of Cameron and Charlotte for laying claim to her heart when I want it all for myself.” Tom wriggled in her arms and she gave him his freedom. Her thoughts turned to Cameron. In the aftermath of Bernie’s supposed death she had done her best to support the young doctor. She hadn’t found it easy, however for if she was honest with herself she did not find him a particularly likeable character; had he not been Bernie’s son she doubted whether she would have had much to do with him other than in a professional capacity. During her last few weeks at the hospital his behaviour had tried her patience. Finally an incident at the hospital had brought all her grief and anger over Elinor’s death flooding back, and when Cameron had attempted to support her she had snapped, yelling that his mother deserved to be blown up. Poor boy. For all his faults he hadn’t deserved to be hurt like that. She hoped he wouldn’t tell Bernie, fretted that he would and that Bernie would take it badly. “I should have told her myself,” she said to Tom. “Will there ever be an end to this withholding of truth between us.”  
Her phone pinged. “Seen Cam. He can’t do lunch. Coming home. I love you. Xxxxxx” Serena’s heart leapt.  
Serena had poured herself an early glass of Shiraz and turned on the television when she heard Bernie’s car in the drive. “Bernie’s back,” she told Tom joyfully. Bernie burst into the sitting room.  
“Good drive,” Serena asked steadily.  
“Yes.”  
“How was Cameron?” Serena held her breath.  
“Prickly. I don’t know, something is bothering him, but I can’t help him with it if he won’t tell me. But I need to ask you something.”  
“Here we go,” thought Serena.  
“Did you tell him that I selfish going to Mogadishu and deserved to be blown up?”  
“Bernie, I did, I’m so sorry, it was unforgiveable of me.” To Serena’s surprise Bernie did not reply angrily but instead kissed her gently on the lips.  
“You were right Serena. I was selfish, I didn’t want to take responsibility for us. I think Cameron wanted to undermine us by telling me that, but he only confirmed how much I really want to be with you. Now will you please go and put on that gorgeous dress you are going to wear tomorrow.”  
Puzzled, Serena obeyed. While she was gone Bernie opened the velvet jewellery pouch. On Serena’s return she gave a low whistle. “Close your eyes,” she ordered. Again Serena obeyed. She felt cold metal at her throat and Bernie’s fingers on her neck. “Now come with me.” Bernie led Serena into the hall and stood her before the mirror.  
“Open your eyes!” Just above Serena’s cleavage lay a dark green emerald surrounded by diamonds suspended from a gold rope chain.  
“It’s beautiful Bernie.”  
“It belonged to my grandmother, then my mother. Now it’s yours.”  
“Bernie, I can’t, really. Charlotte should have it.”  
“I want you to have it. Charlotte can inherit it in due course. Besides, it comes with this. Give me your hand.” Serena allowed Bernie to slide a matching ring onto the third finger of her left hand.  
“Diamonds for true love and emeralds to nurture love,” Bernie whispered. “You are so beautiful Serena. Will you come upstairs now and help me to choose an outfit for this party tomorrow?” 

To be continued.


	2. Home is where the Heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the night of Ric's party. Bernie sees how much Serena is enjoying being with old friends and decides that they must move back to Holby. Serena meanwhile recognises Bernie's discomfiture and vows that they continue to make their home in Cornwall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I have been a while posting. I have been busy with a longer project. I will continue to add to this story tomorrow but meanwhile here is a bit to be going on with.

“Are you alright Darling?” Serena took Bernie’s hand.  
“Yes,” Bernie replied, “at least I will be when I’ve got this shoe back on.” She bent down and eased her foot back into the kitten heeled shoe which she had kicked off. “You should have let me wear boots, Serena. How on earth do you manage to totter about in stilettos?”  
“Years of practice,” Serena said airily, “you could not possibly have worn boots with that dress.  
The taxi slowed and came to a halt outside The Davenport Suite where Ric Griffin’s retirement party was being held. Serena paid the cab driver and got out of the car.  
“Have you got a card?” Bernie asked him, “in case I need to call a cab for a quick getaway? Thanks.” She slipped the taxi company’s card into her bag and joined Serena outside the hospital entrance.  
“I must say, you look ravishing,” Serena purred. They locked eyes; Bernie had the urge to grab Serena’s hand and rush away to somewhere private where she could indeed ravish Serena.  
Serena tucked a stray lock of Bernie’s hair behind her ear and ran her eyes the length of her body. Bernie wore an ivory silk Karen Millen dress with bootlace straps and pearl buttons which ran down spine as far as the small of her back. The dress clung to Bernie’s athletic figure, the colour accentuated her tan. Not one to usually wear make-up, Bernie had, this evening slicked on mascara, a hint of blusher and lipstick. Serena found it hard to put into words just how beautiful she looked.  
“I must say that you scrub up pretty well yourself,” Bernie teased and indeed, Serena, with her dark eyes, red lipstick, emerald dress and incredibly high heels took Bernie’s breath away.  
“It seems that we‘re one another’s mutual fan club,” Serena laughed. She took Bernie’s arm. “Come on Major.” She assumed a pretentious voice, “Major Wolfe and Fraulein Campbell.” They laughed at the private joke until Bernie whispered, “Soon to be Major and Mrs Wolfe.”  
Serena pulled away. “I beg your pardon?” she said in mock horror, “surely you’re not expecting me to become Mrs Wolfe?” Bernie was immediately contrite.  
“No, don’t be silly it was only a joke. Neither of us took our husbands’ names did we? That is so patriarchal and since neither of us are patriarchs, it really doesn’t apply. Sorry.”  
“I know you weren’t serious,” Serena assured her, taking Bernie’s arm. “Come on, let’s stun them.”  
“There is one thing,” Bernie said with a worried frown.  
“What is it now, Darling?”  
“Will we tell everyone that we’re engaged?” Serena held up her left hand.  
“While I don’t want to steal Ric’s thunder I’m more than happy for everyone to know that this is an engagement ring. Take a deep breath now, Darling, in we go.”  
Bernie took a deep breath and steeled herself to face the battery of questions from ex colleagues whom she had last seen at Jason’s wedding when she made that fateful decision to leave Serena. 

The Davenport Suite was where the Board of Holby City entertained the great and the good, be they eminent surgeons or holders of government purse strings. The carpeted reception area led through double doors to a large ballroom with a sprung floor. It was here that Ric’s party was being held. Bernie and Serena pushed through the doors. Background music was just audible above the murmur of voices. Both Bernie and Serena scanned the room. Ric was at the far end surrounded by colleagues. Bernie and Serena walked slowly towards him. He greeted them both with a warm smile.  
“I’m delighted to see you both.” He kissed first Serena, then Bernie, on the cheek. “You are looking well Bernie, despite your ordeal,” he remarked.  
“It wasn’t too bad,” Bernie replied, never wanting to cause a fuss. “besides I’ve had Serena to look after me since I resurfaced.”  
“She has obviously looked after you well.”  
“Oh she has, I assure you,” Bernie looked fondly at Serena. Serena wondered how, after all this time, that look in Bernie’s eyes could still make her heart flutter.  
“Well Ric, I never thought I would see the day of your retirement ,” she said, dragging her thoughts away from Bernie. “What made you decide finally?”  
At that moment a young girl in black and white approached with a tray of canapés bringing a momentary halt to the conversation.  
“They look absolutely delicious,” she said, “I will take one in a moment but first things first, I need a drink.” She laid a hand on Ric’s arm. “I’ll catch you later, Ric,” she said softly “and you can tell all. Enjoy your evening.” He leant forward and whispered in her ear, “I’m so happy for you Serena. You were like a lost soul without her.” Serena wondered whether she was really so transparent.  
Armed with a drink apiece Serena and Bernie approached the table round which several ex colleagues were seated. A cacophony of greetings welcomed them;  
“Wow, good to see you guys, “  
“Come and join us,”  
“How is retirement suiting you Serena?” and finally a heartfelt “Welcome back Major.”  
They sat down. Amidst the chatter Bernie gradually relaxed. It wasn’t so bad after all. She was content to listen to the hospital gossip and watch Serena take centre stage with her tales of giant marrows, farmyard symphonies and stray cats. She really was a social animal, a natural extrovert. She had needed the isolation of the Cornish cottage for a while but it was time now for her to move back to the city, Bernie realised.  
The tempo of the music changed to something more upbeat. Ange leapt to her feet.  
“Who’s dancing?” she asked. Pulling Fletch to his feet and leading him to the dance floor. Gradually groups of single friends left the dance floor to be replaced by smooching couples.  
“Darling. Will you dance?” Serena held out a hand. Bernie felt suddenly conspicuous. Of course, they had been known as a couple for a long while before Bernie had fled overseas but this was the first time that they had obviously danced, in public, as a couple. Besides there were many there to whom Bernie was only known as the woman who returned from the dead and she dreaded the thought of all eyes being on her.  
“Come.” Serena said softly. “I’ve got you.” Bernie smiled took her hand, apprehension melting in the surety of Serena’s love.  
Serena laid her head upon Bernie’s shoulder as they danced. She was not unaware of Bernie’s discomfiture. Confident as she was playing the role of military major and super surgeon, she was, at heart an introvert who needed space to retreat to at the end of a day of social stimulation. ‘We need to stay in Cornwall’ she decided as their bodies moulded together and danced in perfect unison.  
“So have you two really taken to country life?” Fletch asked in wonder, “Are you planning to live in splendid isolation forever?” Serena and Bernie looked at one another, each willing the other to speak first.  
“Well, it’s what I needed,” Bernie ventured, eventually, “after the trauma of Somalia. But we’re both ready to return to civilisation now. We’re both job hunting and the opportunities for surgeons are pretty sparse in Cornwall. Besides we need to be nearer to our families.”  
“We’ll stay in Cornwall,” Serena said decisively, simultaneously. “That’s where we belong. In fact I’m arranging to have the house valued and put on the market while we are here. The traffic, the pace of life here, it’s all too much and let’s face it, Charlotte, Cameron, and Jason are all quite grown up. ”  
“Right, I see,” said Fletch slowly. “So you haven’t quite agreed yet. Perhaps you should. That rather large ring on a significant finger hasn’t escaped our notice Serena. It’s probably best to decide where you plan to embark on married life.”  
To be continued


	3. Lay your head upon my pillow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving house will never be a smooth affair. Bernie's first trip back to Holby after her release from captivity unsettles her.She is concerned about Cameron and worries that Serena is doing the wrong thing by selling her house.

“You noticed,” Serena giggled, “we decided not to make a big announcement. Tonight is Ric’s, we don’t want to steal his thunder. In any case, Bernie hates being the centre of attention, don’t you darling? Unless she’s commanding a battalion of course. ” Bernie flushed. “Sorry, Darling, I shouldn’t tease. I’m just so happy.” Serena’s dark eyes sparkled.  
“Which one of you popped the question,” Fletch asked.  
“Bernie,” said Serena smugly.   
“It’s a gorgeous ring,” Donna said. “Where did you find it?  
“It was my grandmother’s,” Bernie revealed. “I had to go and reclaim it from Cameron. He took my jewellery from the cottage when, you know, I wasn’t here.” She couldn’t be sure but she felt a slight hesitation before Ange asked,  
“How is Cameron? Where is he now?”  
“Kent,” Bernie said. “He went to work in one of the Nightingale Hospitals.”  
“Did he? I thought they had all closed by the time he left.”  
“Not the Kent one, obviously.”  
“I must be mistaken.” Ange turned away from Bernie’s gaze.   
“Why did you say that we are coming back to Holby?” Serena whispered., “I thought we’d agreed,”  
“We haven’t agreed on anything yet. Certainly not on staying in Cornwall,” Bernie hissed.   
She was prevented from pursuing the conversation by the Chairman of the Board of Governors requesting silence.   
“Ladies and Gentleman, on behalf of the Board I would like to congratulate Ric on his retirement.” He proceeded to detail Ric’s career at Holby.   
Bernie drifted back to her first meeting with Ric on Keller, and more importantly that very first car-park encounter with Serena. She had fallen asleep that night with an image of Serena Campbell in her head. She’d not been able to believe her good fortune when the opportunity to work with Serena on AAU arose. She had successfully hidden her feelings for a long while during which time what had started as a ridiculous crush had developed into a firm friendship, and then, unbelievably, love. “And then I blew it,” Bernie sighed, remembering the number of times she had left Serena to go chasing a military career. Despite that ring on Serena’s finger Bernie still couldn’t quite believe that everything was going to be alright.  
“Did you say something?” Serena mouthed. Bernie shook her head. “I was just remembering the time I spent at Holby,” she whispered.   
A round of applause signalled the end of the Chairman’s speech and the presentation of a   
gold watch and cheque to Ric. The dj began pumping out music again, and Serena pulled Bernie to her feet. She had taken off the stilettos and was already dancing as she led Bernie onto the floor. Serena’s emerald dress, dark eyes and red lipstick, the abandonment with which she danced entranced Bernie. She herself was not a bad dancer though she was always somewhat self-conscious; despite Serena’s reassurance that she looked stunning in the sleek Karen Millen number Bernie would have felt more comfortable in her usual black jeans and shirt. To her relief the music slowed enabling Bernie to pull Serena towards her. Without her heels Serena was short enough wrap her arms around Bernie’s waist and rest her head on Bernie’s shoulder. “This is what dancing should be,” thought Bernie as the velvet voice of Kristofferson crooned, “Lay your head upon my pillow, hold your warm and tender body close to mine.”  
#  
Fingers of daylight reached around the edges of the curtains. Bernie stretched and rolled over to face the still sleeping Serena. She became aware of a dull pain across her forehead and groaned “Never again,” ruefully recalling the previous night. After the formalities were over and most of the guests had departed the Davenport Suite Ric’s real leaving party with his inner circle of colleagues and friends had continued well into the early hours  
In a smaller, more select group of people she knew well Bernie had relaxed and entered into   
the alcohol enhanced repartee. By three o’ clock the table had been littered with empty glasses and Shiraz bottles. Bernie remembered moving onto whisky, a very good single malt. Serena had been forced to carry her stilettos the short distance to the taxi, clinging onto Bernie’s arm for support.  
Serena stirred. “What time is it?”   
“Seven thirty. How do you feel?” Bernie kissed Serena’s bare shoulder tenderly.  
“O Lord, Fragile. It was a good night, though wasn’t it, so lovely to see Ric and the old team. Bernie you look very pale.”  
“Do I? My head hurts.”   
“Serves you right for mixing your drinks.”  
“I don’t think sticking to Shiraz did you any favours. You and Ric drank a whole winery between you. Shall I make coffee?”  
“You darling that would be lovely.” Bernie padded downstairs to the kitchen. The white fronted units, grey marble worktops and De Longa all bells and whistles coffee machine were in stark contrast to the rickety pine and formica of the Cornish cottage. A glass vase containing a single white rose graced the breakfast bar. Not only the kitchen but the whole house exuded Serena’s good taste. Bernie carried the two coffee mugs carefully back to the bedroom, wary of spilling the brown liquid onto the cream stair carpet. She marvelled at how Greta and Jason had kept the house so spotless while they were in residence with Guinevere. When Cameron and Charlotte were toddlers the evidence of spilt ribena was ever present. A picture of Elinor hung on the landing. The back bedroom had been hers. Bernie wondered how on earth Serena could walk away from this house? She pushed open the bedroom door with her hip.  
“Coffee’s here! Are you still awake?” She put the mugs down on the bedside table and slid into bed beside Serena. “Coffee,” she repeated, “and paracetamol, best hangover cure I know.” Serena rolled over to face her.  
“I’ve heard that sex is good for a hangover,” she said in a sultry voice, “Shall we put it to the test?”  
“Serena, you are incorrigible.”  
“I know.” Serena pulled Bernie close and sighed contentedly.   
#  
Much later, bodies satisfied, heads clear, the pair sat outside on the patio drinking more coffee and eating toast dripping with butter.   
“This reminds me of France,” Bernie mused.  
“We didn’t need cardigans in France,” Serena reminded her, pulling hers closer around her.  
“Admittedly it could be warmer,” Bernie agreed. Tom the cat jumped up onto her lap and butted his head against her.  
“He likes you,” Serena purred.   
Bernie stroked Tom as he settled down on her knees. She took a deep breath. “He seems happy here. Perhaps we shouldn’t uproot him.”  
“He can’t stay here alone.”  
“I meant that perhaps we should stay with him.”  
“Bernie, we have talked about this. I have decided, we have decided, that I am going to sell the house. Are you still worrying about what Fletch said.”  
“He had a point. Besides it isn’t a good time to sell.”  
“It never is. It’s like starting a family; you have to just take the plunge.” A shadow clouded Bernie’s faces. “Ah, family. That’s another issue. Perhaps we both need to stay close to whatever semblance of a family each of us has.”  
“That never kept you tethered to Holby before,” Serena replied tartly, instantly regretting her words when she saw the hurt on Bernie’s face.  
“You can’t forgive me even now, can you?” Bernie muttered.   
“Sweetheart, of course I’ve forgiven you, just as you’ve forgiven me for all the times I took my hurt out on you. We’ve moved on. All I meant was that you don’t usually make decisions based upon on the proximity of Charlotte and Cameron so why this sudden concern?”   
“I was watching you last night. You had such fun, you are such a sociable being. I know you love the scenery, the walks on the beach, the wide open spaces of Cornwall but admit it Serena, you do find it just a little bit lonely, don’t you?”  
“No! I did, when I was first there on my own but it’s different now I’ve got you.”  
“Perhaps I’m not enough,” Bernie said quietly. Serena was stunned.   
“Berenice Wolfe,” she began, sternly. “Stop that right now. Of course you are enough. More than enough. Besides, if we need a little more entertainment there is the pub quiz on every Friday, open mic once a month and a cinema ten miles away, what more do we need?”  
“Shops, Italian restaurants, wine bars, theatre, walks in the park with Guinevere,” Bernie counted off on her fingers.  
“Ah, Guinevere. We are back to family. Bernie, you are my family, and I was under the impression that by proposing you intended me to become your family, so what are you wittering about? You have been in a strange mood since yesterday evening.”  
“Sorry. I just feel odd. Seeing Cameron unsettled me, there’s something not quite right. Last night, meeting all the old team, being with a crowd of people properly for the first time in goodness knows how long, seeing you so much enjoying yourself last night You’ve admitted you are ready for another challenge career wise. A big city hospital could offer you that. It made me realise that the countryside isn’t the best place for you long term.”  
“Perhaps I should be the best judge of that.”  
“Then there is your house, it was home for you and Elinor, and then Jason. You can’t sell it lightly.”   
“It’s only bricks and mortar Bernie. That tumbledown cottage feels more my home now, because you are there with me.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and began to scroll through some numbers.   
“What are you doing?” Bernie asked.  
“Phoning the estate agents to ask for a valuation to be done as soon as possible. Then we are going to put Tom in the cat carrier and drive back to our home in Cornwall. How long we will be there I don’t know, but of one thing I am certain.”  
“What’s that?”  
“Wherever we lay our head, if it’s your head on the pillow next to mine, that’s home. Do you understand that, Berenice Griselda Wolfe?  
“I’m beginning to, Wendy Serena Campbell,” Bernie replied.


	4. Follow your Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Serena are agreed that they will live in the country, but where? Bernie has second thoughts about returning to work as a trauma surgeon.

Bernie sat hunched over the lap top, her brow furrowed in concentration. She chewed her thumb nail as she read the on-screen document.  
“Serena,” she called, “I’ve been doing some maths.”  
Serena appeared from the kitchen where she had been baking scones and looked over Bernie’s shoulder at the screen.  
“I can claim my military pension next month,” Bernie told her, “a reduced rate of course as I’m not yet of full pensionable age but even so it’s quite a decent sum. There are some benefits to growing old.”  
Serena massaged her partner’s shoulders. “You’re not old darling, but I agree there are benefits to reaching a certain age.”  
Bernie reached up and put a hand over Serena’s. “The thing is,” she said slowly, “I know that we talked about a possible job share, as surgeons, but I’m not sure, I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to work with you again, we did make a great team, but I’m not sure that I want to return to surgery.”  
“I knew something was bothering you,” Serena replied. “Ever since Ric’s party you’ve been in a strange mood.”  
“I know. Sorry.”  
“Don’t be sorry. You can’t help how you are feeling. Leave your lap top and come and sit over here next to me.”  
The pair sat side by side on the shabby sofa with its odd collection on cushions. Serena took Bernie’s hand.  
“Tell me what’s worrying you,” she crooned, rubbing Bernie’s hand with her thumb.  
Bernie frowned. “Maybe I’ve lost some confidence, being out of the operating theatre for so long.”  
“Rubbish, you’re a brilliant surgeon. You would be back in the swing of things in no time at all.”  
“But if I don’t want to be?”  
“Bernie?” There was something in the way that Serena said her name in that questioning way that caused Bernie’s heart to skip a beat even after all this time.  
“Walking through the Holby doors,” she did her best to explain, “sitting with the old team, listening to the hospital gossip, I felt removed from it all. So far removed that I just couldn’t imagine myself back there.”  
“You don’t have to go back to Holby. It’s not the only hospital in the universe.”  
“I couldn’t imagine myself back in any hospital. I don’t want to be a surgeon any more. I want to do something different. Maybe it’s because I’ve given up the excitement of the army. Maybe it’s because I’m nearing fifty five and I’m panicking that it’s now or never. I just feel the need to try something different.”  
“Have you thought about this properly?”  
“Locked up in a hut in Somalia gave me plenty of time to think believe you me,” Bernie said drily.  
“What’s your pension worth?” Serena asked. Bernie fetched the laptop and handed it to her saying, “Enough for us to live on, if we’re not extravagant, and the lump sum can be my contribution to the house we buy,”  
“If the Holby house sells for the amount the estate agent suggested, and we buy somewhere smaller in a less expensive area we’ll have money left over to invest,” Serena replied. “Meanwhile I’ll carry on with the locum work. I admit I’m disappointed that we won’t be working together, we do make a dream team, but your happiness is my priority darling.”  
“Thankyou.” Bernie kissed Serena on the lips and would have run her fingers through Serena’s hair had not the aroma of baking wafted in from the kitchen. Serena pushed Bernie from her.  
“Oh heavens, the scones will be overcooked. Much as I love kissing you it will have to wait. I’ll put the kettle on. We’ll talk more over fresh scones and coffee.”  
“Perfect,” purred Bernie. “So long as I can kiss you afterwards. I’m so lucky to be marrying a domestic goddess as well as a wonderful lover.”  
#  
“Tell me,” Serena said, as she dropped a liberal spoonful of clotted cream onto her scone, “What would your dream house be?”  
“That’s difficult. I got used so used to making myself at home in whatever accommodation the army offered, I’ve never thought much about a dream home. The house Marcus and I bought was the sort of executive detached expected of us.”  
“What about your cottage in the country?”  
“Never spent much time there. Also it wasn’t exactly a cottage. Not like this place. It had a drawing room and a Poggenpohl kitchen. What about you Serena? Was your leafy suburban detached in Holby your dream home when you bought it?”  
“I liked it, obviously, and I do like modern fixtures and fittings. The wood burner here is very cosy I admit but you can’t beat the convenience of central heating. We’re no further on really, are we? Where is the cheapest area to buy property in, do you think?”  
“Lincolnshire?” suggested Bernie.  
“Too flat,” objected Serena. “And cold. Think of those east winds.”  
“Yorkshire?”  
“Beautiful countryside, but too far away from Jason, and your two. It would be nice to see them occasionally.”  
“We could stay in Cornwall.”  
“We could,” agreed Serena.  
“Or,” said Bernie tentatively, “we could look in Wales. When I first joined the army I spent a lot of time on exercises in the Brecon Beacons. They are very beautiful.”  
“Beautiful they might be but aren’t they also very deserted. Nothing there but sheep?” Bernie laughed.  
“Yes to both questions but there are some quite civilised little towns nearby. With hospitals.” Serena looked dubious.  
“Let’s at least go and have a look,” Bernie pleaded. “It will be a pleasant jaunt anyway. We can climb Pen y Fan.” Serena looked horrified.  
“You took me on that route march down the gorge to the chapel in Italy, remember,” Bernie reminded her, “so now it’s my turn to take you up the highest peak in Wales. And, “she continued suggestively, “I’ll find a luxurious hotel where afterwards I’ll take you to other peaks, if you get my meaning.”  
“Well, if you put it that way,” Serena said, “how can I refuse?”


	5. A Welsh Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Serena decide to look for their dream property in Wales. Things do not go smoothly for them, of course, and a surprise encounter at Neville Hall Hospital in Abergavenney causes both of them some consternation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, for those of you who are enjoying this story. Thankyou to everyone who has left kudos.

“It hasn’t taken us too long to reach Wales,” Bernie said as she swung the car off the motorway onto the slip road.  
“I’m hungry,” complained Serena, “breakfast seems hours ago and I only had one cup of coffee.”  
“We’ll be in Abergavenny in half an hour. We’ll have lunch before we go to the estate agents.”  
An hour later the two of them were seated in the sunny courtyard of a cafe enjoying Welsh Rarebit.  
“I wonder why this is so much better than ordinary cheese on toast,” Serena mused.  
“The mustard,” replied Bernie knowledgeably, and the whisky, or beer, gives it a bite.”  
“It’s delicious whatever it is,” Serena gave a sigh of satisfaction. “I feel fortified enough to go house hunting now.”  
#  
“Where do we start?” Serena asked, leafing through the pages of property details which they had just been given by the estate agent, Huw.  
“This one’s within easy distance of the M4,” said Bernie, pushing the glossy leaflet across the table. “It would be a relatively quick drive to Holby.” The grey Welsh granite and slate, the house’s main building materials gave it a forbidding look. “There are three bedrooms, two reception rooms, and a decent sized garden. Then there’s this barn conversion. It looks very smart inside.”  
“I really find it difficult to tell from photographs,” Serena sighed. “I need to see them in the flesh, so to speak.”  
“We’ll have a drive around, look at them all from the outside, eliminate any we really don’t like the look of, and then ask Huw to make us appointments to view tomorrow,” said Bernie decisively.  
“It sounds like a plan. Drive on Major Wolfe.” She nudged Bernie playfully, prompting Bernie to take her in her arms and kiss her on the lips, on the pavement, in Abergavenney.  
“Bernie,” Serena protested, “what will people say?”  
“Oh, I think you’ll find the Welsh very broad-minded,” said Bernie airily.  
#  
The first three houses were near the centre of town; very conveniently situated, they both agreed. House number one, on a small modern development with a neatly tended garden was quickly crossed off the list.  
“It doesn’t really look much different to my suburban detached in Holby,” said Serena dismissively “and I don’t suppose there is a lot of space at the back for growing vegetables. I don’t see the point in coming to Wales and not having plenty of space.”  
“I agree. Though if you are planning a return to surgery you won’t have a great deal of time for growing marrows.”  
“I thought that maybe you would like to turn your hand to gardening since you plan to stay at home.”  
Bernie shook her head emphatically. “Green fingers I definitely have not, Serena. If you want marrows you must grow them yourself.”  
House number two was similarly dismissed while house number three was a period property in the centre of the town with no off street parking.  
“We’ll drive out and look at the out of town properties,” said Bernie. “They should have decent sized gardens at least.  
#  
A new barn conversion was empty. Serena peered through the French windows. She surveyed the open plan living space and shook her head.  
“It would be beautiful for a holiday but impractical as a permanent home. Much as we love each other darling we need separate spaces. Supposing I wanted to read quietly at the same time as you wanted to listen to your heavy metal music?”  
“Headphones?”  
“I’d still hear the base. Two reception rooms are a necessity, preferably a study too. Oh, and a spare room for visiting children.”  
So the afternoon continued with one property after another dismissed as too small. Too large, too enclosed, too isolated, too in need of repair; only two were deemed a possibility.  
The Town Hall clock struck five as Bernie and Serena drove into Abergavenney. Bernie pulled up in front of the estate agents.  
“Shall we ask for viewing appointments for these two?” she asked Serena agreed.  
#  
A day spent mostly in the car had left the pair feeling stiff. Once the necessary business had been concluded they wandered from the street up the winding road to the castle. Bernie leant over the ramparts overlooking the River Usk. She breathed in the clean air.  
“When I was a little girl,” she confessed to Serena, “we used to have family holiday in Wales. I always dreamt of living in Wales permanently and of having a Welsh sheepdog.”  
Serena took hold of her hand. “Perhaps your dream will come true,” she said.  
“I worry that it’s not what you want.”  
“Bernie, be quiet. We have talked about this over and over again. Besides, as you say, we are only half an hour away from the M4. I can be back in civilisation in next to no time if I so choose. Shall we go and find this bed and breakfast we have booked?”  
#  
Janice, the B@B proprietor handed over the keys of their room.  
“You know it’s a double?” she checked, “that is what you booked?”  
“Yes, we did,” Bernie said. Serena busied herself looking at the tourist leaflets in a rack.  
“This way,” Janice said cheerfully and led them up a staircase with a curved oak handrail.  
“This is the room,” she said throwing open the door. “I hope that you are comfortable. Breakfast is from eight until ten. I don’t know if you have plans for this evening, but if not I can recommend the food at the White Lion.”  
“Thankyou, Serena and Berne said in unison, and burst into schoolgirl giggles as soon as the door closed. “Oh Bernie, I’m still not really used to this,” Serena confessed.  
“You better get used to it very soon,” Bernie replied, taking Serena in her arms. “As soon as we have this house business settled I suggest we get married pronto.”  
#  
The White Lion did indeed live up to its recommendation. The bar also stocked a very good Shiraz. Tired and replete Bernie and Serena had fallen immediately into a deep sleep in the King size bed. They awoke early the next morning to the sound of sheep on the hillside immediately behind the house.  
“Serena, are you awake?” Bernie whispered.  
“Yes,” Serena replied sleepily, “What do you want?”  
“You,” Bernie replied, nuzzling her ear. She divested herself of the t shirt she had slept in and pressed herself against Serena’s soft, warm body. Serena turned to face her and ran her hair through Bernie’s tangled hair. “I do love you,” she whispered. “I still can’t believe you came back to me.”

“That was delicious, thankyou,” Bernie said as Janis cleared away their plates. Despite the late meal at The White Lion they had both managed to eat a substantial cooked Welsh breakfast with extra toast.  
“It must be the early morning exercise,” Serena sniggered in a tone low enough for Janis not to hear.  
“You two house hunting again today,” Janis asked as the pair left the breakfast room.  
“Yes,” replied Serena. We viewed several from the outside yesterday. We’ve got some inside viewings this morning.  
“All in Abergavenney?”  
“Within a ten mile radius. We want to be within striking distance of the M4. We have both have family in England.”  
“We need to be near big hospitals too. We are both doctors.” Serena explained further. “On sabbatical at the moment, so to speak, but one of us at least may want to work in the future.”  
“Don’t suppose you’d consider Talgarth would you?” asked Janis. “My cousin’s been trying to sell his place for a year or so. He put it on the market before Covid and Lockdown and the market has been really slow since.” She picked up a B&B business card and scribbled down a number.  
“Give him a ring. It might not be what you’re looking for but even having someone to view would give him and his partner a bit of hope.” She pushed the card into Bernie’s hand. “I’ll see you this evening, have a good day.”  
The best laid plans sometimes go awry. Bernie and Serena turned up at Primrose cottage at the appointed hour. Mrs Griffiths, a widow who planned to move nearer to her daughter, ushered them into the chintz sitting room.  
“I’ve been very happy here,” she said in a lilting Welsh voice. “Let me show you the kitchen.” She led them into a narrow galley kitchen not unlike the one in the Cornish cottage.  
“There’s a lovely view of the mountains,” said Serena appreciatively.  
“I shall miss those Black Mountains,” Mrs Griffiths replied sadly. “But I can’t manage the stairs here anymore. Do you mind going up and having a look around upstairs on your own? It’s as much as I can do to haul myself up there at night without going up and down during the day as well.”  
Bernie and Serena climbed the steep spiral staircase into the roof space of the cottage where two whitewashed bedrooms nestled under the eaves, each one just big enough for a single bed and chest of drawers. Bernie and Serena shook their heads silently.  
“Thankyou Mrs Griffiths,” they said.”It’s a lovely cottage but not quite what we are after.”  
“Why aren’t the room dimensions on the details,” expostulated Bernie impatiently.  
“Do you think she and Mr Griffiths had a room each?” giggled Serena.  
#  
They had agreed to meet the agent at the second property as the owners were reluctant to show prospective buyers around himself. This seemed more promising; a recently modernised stone farmhouse with an acre of land. The surrounding farmland had been sold separately. The owners, a retired farmer and his wife, were having a house built nearer the town. The property lay some miles out of Abergavenney in a village with an unpronounceable Welsh name. Bernie drove slowly down the narrow lane. “It must be around here,” she muttered. At that moment a frightened looking Dylan from the Estate Agent’s office appeared from a driveway and waved his hands furiously.  
Bernie and Serena leapt from the car.  
“Mr Jones is having a heart attack I think. I’ve just phoned for an ambulance.”  
Bernie and Serena pushed passed him and rushed into the house where they found Mrs Jones on her knees in the kitchen beside her husband who had collapsed.  
“We are Doctors,” Bernie and Serena announce. “May we look at your husband?” Mrs Jones stepped aside. Bernie and Serena together rolled Mr Jones, who was of a considerable size, into the recovery position and checked his airways. His breathing slowed to a standstill. Mrs Jones let out a cry and grasped hold of Serena for support. Bernie rolled Mr Jones back onto his back and began to manually resuscitate. “If anyone can get his heart going again, she can,” Serena reassured Mrs Jones. She’s good.”  
Serena gently extricated herself from Mrs Jones’ grip and knelt beside Mr. Jones. She took his arm and laid two fingers on the inside of his wrist.  
“He’s alright, I can feel a pulse,” she said to Bernie. “Well done.” At that moment Dylan came into the house.  
“They’ve sent the air ambulance,” he said, unnecessarily as the drone of the helicopter could be heard in the distance.  
#  
“Well, I guess this sale won’t be happening for quite a while,” Dylan said as the helicopter with Mr and Mrs Jones disappeared behind the trees on the skyline. “I can’t tell you how grateful I was that you two knew what to do. I hadn’t a clue.”  
“You should do some first aid training “Bernie admonished him, “You never know when you might be called upon to offer assistance.”  
“I’ll look into it,” said Dylan. “Would you like to come back to the office and I’ll see what else we have that might be of interest.”  
Bernie and Serena shook their heads.  
“No thankyou,” Serena said. “I think we might stop by the hospital to see how Mr Jones is getting on and then call it a day, don’t you agree Bernie?  
Bernie agreed.  
#  
“I don’t believe it!” A voice unwelcomingly familiar to Serena greeted them as they entered the A@E department.  
“Max!” Serena gasped. “I heard that you left Holby I must say that you are the last person I have expected to meet today.”  
“I could say the same. I’m in charge of Accident and Emergency. What are you doing here? Don’t say you have come to annoy me again.”  
“Simply checking up on someone we gave first aid to, a Mr Jones. If you could find out how he is we’ll be on our way.”  
“I’ll send someone.” She looked around and caught the eye of a nurse and beckoned him over.  
“Would you find out the condition of Mr Jones?” She looked up at the whiteboard. “Bay twelve. If you would relay the information to Ms Campbell and Ms?”  
“Wolfe, Bernie Wolfe,” Bernie supplied.  
“So you are the invincible Bernie Wolfe. I’ve heard a great deal about you. There were those at Holby who swooned at mention of your name.” Her lip curled sardonically.  
“I am. And you are?”  
“Max McGerry,” cut in Serena before Max could utter a word.  
“Aha.” Bernie knew that name. It was partly Max’s political engineering as Acting C.E.O at Holby City that had led to Serena’s dramatic resignation. Max had also featured somehow in Cameron’s departure from Holby though how exactly was not clear.  
“I’ve heard about you from Serena and also my son, Cameron,” said Bernie.  
“Dr Dunn. Not quite as smart as he liked to think.”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“You, Miss Wolfe, may be highly regarded as a surgeon but your son, Doctor Dunn, has not inherited as many of your qualities as he thinks. It’s a shame. If he accepted his limitations he would make quite a decent registrar. As it was I had to let him go. It’s no good keeping dead wood onboard is it Serena?”  
At that moment the nurse returned confirming that Mr Jones was doing nicely and about to be transferred to the ward.  
“Let’s go,” Serena said, taking Bernie’s arm.  
“What was all that about?” Bernie said when they were outside. “I know what drove you to leave Holby, but what was all that about Cameron? He told me he left of his own volition to help during the pandemic but she implied that he was forced out.”  
“I don’t know,” Serena soothed her. “I wasn’t there. I just know that once Max McGerry has you on her hit list your days are numbered. Darling today hasn’t worked out quite as we planned. We’re both a little fraught as well as disappointed that we haven’t found our dream house. As a doctor I prescribe that we go back to our B and B, have a gin and tonic, a bath full of bubbles, more of that lovely food and wine at The White Lion and a very early night.”  
“Alright Doctor,” Bernie said meekly. “Do you think you could give me a massage? My back hurts.”  
“With pleasure,” replied Serena with a grin. “I must get you fit for tomorrow and whatever it brings.”  
To be continued: will Bernie and Serena find their dream house?


	6. Whisky and other diversions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Serena and Bernie have been unsettled by the sudden appearance of Serena's nemesis Max McGerry. The sight and sounds of a military training exercise causes Bernie to relive the explosion in Nairobi. It seems that this part of Wales is not going to provide the idyll they are searching. They decide, however, to view just one more property on the way way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I have been so long posting this chapter, but I've been away on a little holiday myself. I'm still undecided as to whether Bernie and Serena should live in Wales, or whether to settle them back in Cornwall in my next, final chapter. Any preferences?

The evening, and night, had indeed been perfect yet despite this Bernie was restless. Sleep evaded her; she lay on her back in the darkness listening to Serena’s rhythmic breathing. She could not erase from her mind the face of Max McGerry as she had spoken of Cameron nor the distaste with which she had spoken to Serena. Resentment rose in Bernie’s chest; how dare max McGerry attack those closest to her heart. She rolled onto her side and took Serena in her arms protectively.   
Serena stirred. “Bernie,” she murmured   
“Sh, go back to sleep,” Bernie whispered in the darkness. “I won’t let that awful woman hurt you.”   
“Easier said than done,” Serena thought wryly as the town clock struck four. Bernie had eventually slept, fitfully; once disturbed it was Serena’s turn to lie awake. Bumping into Max Mcgerry in such an unexpected way brought all her resentments against the woman, her fight with the hospital board and the Porters’ union bubbling once more to the surface. “I won’t go back to all that,” she resolved. Bernie rolled over, pulling the duvet with her. Serena tugged it back.   
“Serena,” Bernie complained, “what are you doing?”  
“Grabbing the duvet back. You have taken it all.” She moved across the bed closer to Bernie.  
“Hold me,” she whispered.  
#  
“What’s the plan for today?” asked Serena brightly the following morning, the fears of the   
early hours banished by the morning sun. “Didn’t you say that you wanted to take me up this mountain, Penny something or other?”  
“Pen-Y-Van,” Bernie replied. “Do you mind if we don’t? My back still hurts and I didn’t sleep too well.”  
“I know. Neither did I. We were both restless. What kept you awake?”  
“Silly worries. About Cameron. About you possibly having to work with that McGerry woman. I made up my mind that I wouldn’t ask you to work with her again and since it is the only hospital for miles......”  
“I wouldn’t take any job that involved working with her,” Serena reassured her, “that’s what kept me awake and I resolved to steer clear of her. As for Cameron, he’s grown-up Bernie; he has to travel his own road.”  
“I know,” Bernie sighed. Her face lightened as she picked up her phone.   
“Look,” she said, holding it so that Serena could see the screen. “I’ve got a plan. There is a distillery here which makes exceptionally good whisky. We would drive through the Beacons National Park to get there, make our way back through Talgarth. We could call in and see this property that Janis’s cousin has to sell. She seemed disappointed last night when we said we hadn’t seen it. It’s quite a way from here. Just out of curiosity of course, I doubt that it will be any more suitable than the others.”  
“Since we will be driving that way we may as well,” agreed Serena. “I doubt that Max lives that far out of town.”  
#   
Janis was delighted to that they were proposing to look at her cousin’s property before returning to Cornwall.  
“It’s a tidy little place,” she assured them. “well maintained. His partner ran a little business from the old barn.” Serena raised an eyebrow.   
A business in a barn,” she commented when they were safely in the car. “Would that be sheep-shearing or tractor maintenance do you think?”  
The drive to the distillery was indeed a beautiful one. In Crickhowell they passed the Military Training Camp where Bernie had been stationed some years previously.   
“That’s how I know about the distillery,” she said. “We have to turn left soon and follow the River Usk.”  
After a few miles the road left the deeply wooded valley road and began to climb upwards. Fields gave way to moorland and hillsides studded with grazing sheep. Bernie pulled into a convenient lay-by with a panoramic view over the valley they had left behind.   
“It’s stunning,” breathed Serena, “as beautiful as any we saw in Italy.”  
At that moment the dull thud of artillery fire echoed around the valley. Bernie clutched Serena’s hand. “Listen,” she said urgently, “do you hear the guns?” Her face had paled and she gripped Serena’s hand so tightly that her nails dug painfully into Serena’s palm.  
“We are still quite near the training camp,” Serena said soothingly. “It will be the army recruits on exercise.”  
“Of course. Stupid of me. For a moment I thought we were under fire.” She surveyed the valley and hills. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me Serena, I feel a bit wobbly today. It must be my wakeful night.”  
“Would you like me to drive?” Serena asked.  
“If you don’t mind.” Bernie’s response was unexpected. She would not normally relinquish the driving seat of her beloved sports car.  
#  
At the distillery Bernie bought six bottles of her favourite Welsh single malt before they continued their journey.  
“Feeling better?” Serena asked solicitously.  
“Yes thankyou. Can I take over the driving again please?”  
As the miles passed Serena began to relax. The road dipped and twisted, each bend revealing vet another beautiful vista.   
“Stop,” Serena suddenly cried.   
“What’s wrong?”  
“I want to look at this little church. Can you pull in?” Bernie obligingly stopped the car and pulled it close into the hedgerow. A tiny white church nestled into the hillside. Sheep grazed on the surrounding slopes.   
“It reminds me of that little chapel in Italy, the hermitage of St Bartholomew.” As the approached the ancient lychgate she exclaimed, “Well, would you believe it, isn’t this an omen, look at the name of the church.” Bernie looked. “St. Bartholomew,” she exclaimed. “I don’t believe in good luck charms or anything like that, but if I did, then yes I agree, what an omen.” Beside the squat, square tower grew a cypress tree, thrusting upwards into the azure sky.   
They walked slowly along the gravel path towards the iron studded door reading the inscriptions on the gravestones as they went.   
“Interesting,” remarked Bernie halting before two slabs. The first bore the inscription, Enid Williams of Llanfair Farm, companion of Gwendolyn 1896 while next to it the headstone was inscribed, Gwendolyn, beloved companion of Enid, died 1898.  
“Interesting,” said Bernie. “Do you think that they were, perhaps...”  
“Lovers,” Serena finished the sentence. “?Possibly.” She took Bernie’s hand. At that moment the serenity of the hillside church was destroyed by the rumbling of heavy vehicles. The noise increased in volume; Bernie appeared startled. She gripped Serena’s arm more tightly as a huge military vehicle passed the lychgate followed by another, then another.   
“Down quick!” Bernie shouted and pulled Serena onto the ground behind a large headstone. She threw her body over Serena’s in order to protect her and placed her hand over Serena’s mouth.  
“Don’t make a sound,” she hissed. Serena lay with the weight of Bernie’s body pressing on her until the convoy had passed. Bernie rolled off Serena and stood up.   
“It’s alright,” she whispered, wiping perspiration from her brow, “they’ve gone.” She was shaking.   
“Darling, it’s alright. We are in Wales, there’s no danger. You told me that the army uses parts of The Beacons for training exercises. That was just a group of young soldiers off on an expedition.” Serena held Bernie close, reached up and smoothed her hair until the trembling ceased.   
“What an idiot I am,” groaned Bernie. “for a moment I thought I was back there, just before the explosion. A convoy went by, there was an almighty flash. The next thing I knew I was in the back of the truck.”  
“I know Darling, you had a horrendous experience, the flashbacks are bound to happen from time to time.” She took Bernie’s hand and laid two fingers across her wrist. “Your pulse is still racing,” she said, “I think that we should sit quietly on the bench next to the lychgate until it returns to normal.” She led Bernie to the bench where they sat in companiable silence. Eventually Bernie got to her feet.  
“Come on, we’d better look at this house.” Serena shook her head.   
“No.”  
“Serena, what do you mean? I thought we‘d agreed to look just out of curiosity.”  
“I’m not going to risk us being seduced by a beautiful house this close to the military training ground. Twice you have had a panic attack today. We might fall in love with this house and be tempted to buy but after what I’ve just witnessed I’m not going to have you frightened out of your wits every time a convoy passes or the guns begin firing.”  
“Serena, I’m fine, it was just a wobble.”  
“Two wobbles.”  
“Two wobbles then. But I won’t let what happened in Nairobi dictate the rest of my life. I’ll get over it. Janis has probably phoned her cousin and he will be expecting us. We probably won’t like this house any better than the others. ” Serena acquiesced.   
“The scenery is beautiful,” she said as they drove through the national park. Shortly before the Talgarth turning the Satnav directed then down a deep cut lane edged with hawthorn and elder.   
“You have reached your destination,” the voice informed them. Bernie stopped the car in front of a five barred gate. A wooden board bearing the name Llanfair Farm was nailed to the gate. Beneath the name was painted the warning Dogs running free.  
“I think we should phone,” said Serena. Bernie’s called was soon answered. By the time she had pushed her phone back into her pocket footsteps were heard on the gravel drive.  
“Afternoon,” the owner of the footsteps greeted them; they belonged to a man in late middle age, stocky with a still thick head of hair. He wore corduroy trousers, a shapeless jumper and wellingtons. He was accompanied by a black and white collie dog.   
“Good afternoon,” Serena greeted him with her brilliant smile. “We understand from your cousin that your house is on the market. We may be interested. Could we have a look around?”  
“Our Janis phoned and said two ladies might be calling. Come on in, I’ve had a bit of a tidy up. I’m Roger, by the way.” The dog sniffed Bernie’s legs inquisitively.  
Roger led the way to a stone farmhouse with mullion windows. The date 1725 was inscribed above the door. A range of stone barns and outbuildings stood around a muddy yard, beyond which a flock of sheep grazed peacefully. The dog barked.  
“Be quiet Meg,” Roger said sharply. “She’s keen to get back to herding,” he explained, “but I’ve given her a bit of time off since she whelped. Maternity leave so to speak.”  
“She has puppies?” Bernie asked excitedly.  
“Just the one left now. If I was staying on here I’d keep it but I don’t know where I’ll be living and once I give up the sheep I’ll have no need for one sheepdog let alone two. I’ll keep Meg of course. The grazing rights go right on to the mountains by the way.” He jerked his thumb towards the vista of the Black Mountains. He took them through the low, wide doorway into the stone flagged hallway. “Living room’s through here,” he said opening a latched. Though the room was shabby it was spacious with a view across the Wye Valley. Serena and Bernie stood side by side “It’s so peaceful,” said Bernie.  
“Do you hear the guns from Sennybridge?” asked Serena.  
“Guns?” Roger asked.   
“”The army trains recruits around here, do you hear the gunfire?”  
“No,” Roger said, “not here. You might hear the occasional pheasant shoot but that’s all.”  
“How long have you lived here Roger?” asked Bernie.   
“Nigh on thirty years. I bought the place with my partner Colin. He was a commercial artist artist. We converted the barn into a studio. I took on the farm, bred and raised sheep, mostly Beulah Speckled Face. The dozen you see in the field are all that’s left of a three hundred strong flock .Since Colin died I’ve lost the heart for it.”  
“I’m sorry,” Serena said compassionately. “It’s hard when you lose someone you love.” Bernie took Serena’s hand and squeezed it.   
“Go upstairs and have a look at the bedrooms, then I’ll show you the outbuildings,” Roger said gruffly.   
#  
Upstairs was very much like the living room – dated but well proportioned rooms with wide windows overlooking the valley and the hills beyond. The main bedroom boasted a large curtained window seat.   
“This is very spacious,” breathed Bernie, “and peaceful.”  
“It will need totally redecorating, “Serena countered, “and a new kitchen, and bathroom.”  
“Of course.”  
Downstairs once more Roger showed them the outbuildings. At the far end of the barn where Colin had worked several easels were stacked. At near end Roger’s quad bike stood next to a nineteen fifties AJS motorcycle resting on its centre stand.   
“That was Colin’s,” Roger said sadly. “He used it most days. He loved the roads around here.”  
Outside in the yard once more Roger pointed out the other outbuildings.   
“That’s the bunk house. Sleeps twelve. We used to hire it out to groups of climbers and canoeists.” Serena looked at Bernie. “Outdoor pursuits, Bernie,” she said. “Right up your street.”  
“I’ll show you the garden at the back,” Roger said. He led them around the side of the house to where sturdy runner beans and peas climbed cane supports and neat rows of cabbages and carrots flourished.   
“You’re a gardener,” commented Serena.  
“Do you garden?”  
“I’ve had some success with marrows,” Serena admitted modestly.  
“It’s too cold for marrows here,” Roger said sadly. “They need warm soil and a sheltered position.” At that moment Meg reappeared followed by an ungainly pup with an unruly coat. Bernie dropped to her knees and began to fondle the creature.   
“Like dogs, do you?” Roger asked.   
“Oh yes,” Bernie replied.   
“Would you like her?” Bernie lifted her eyes to Serena.   
“I suppose I did say you could have a dog,” Serena muttered.   
“I’ll leave you two ladies alone to discuss things,” Roger said diplomatically. “The house and the dog. Take your time.”  
To be continued.


	7. Decisions decisions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the surface Roger's property seems ideal. Bernie and Serena do not want to make a hasty dercision and ask time to think things over.   
> There is another decision to be made however. This one is made very quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I have been so long posting this chapter - real life got in the way. I intended this chapter to be the last one but have made the decision to post what I have written so far so as not to keep you waiting any longer. Final chapter asap.

“Oh Bernie, it’s perfect,” whispered Serena, “what a wonderful view. Do you think that we could be happy here?”  
“I don’t know,” replied Bernie. “I would hope so, but I can’t be certain.”  
“What’s bothering you?”   
“We’re further into Wale than we had anticipated. No quick runs up the motorway to Holby. It’s quite a drive to the hospital at Abergavenney and I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you apply for a job there while the delightful Ms Mcgerry is around. I must say that I didn’t take to her one little bit.”  
“Bernie, last night when I couldn’t sleep, I was going over and over in my head what it is that I want to do. And it isn’t surgery. Oh I know that I said that I wasn’t ready to retire, but that was then and now is now.”  
Bernie looked at her quizzically. “What has brought on this change of heart?”   
“I’m not sure. The magic of Wales maybe.”  
“May I suggest that you two ladies take a little walk up the hill? The view is even better up there.” The voice of broke into their conversation.   
“Thanks, we will,” Serena linked her arm through Bernie’s. The rock strewn path took them behind the farmhouse and up a steep incline. Serena felt Bernie’s stride lengthening. She let loose Bernie’s arm.   
“You go on ahead,” Serena puffed. “I don’t want to hold you up.” Bernie strode ahead, Serena following more steadily. A pair of red kites circled overhead in a cloudless blue sky while tiny meadow pipits darted in and out of the bracken. Serena stopped and breathed in the serenity of the scene.   
At the summit Bernie was silhouetted against the skyline as she rested her elbows on an information board. Serena joined her.   
“Do you see that track opposite?” she asked Serena.  
“Yes.”  
“It’s a moving target run. I thought the terrain felt familiar, but seeing the run, from here, I remember. There was an anti-tank gun positioned on that ridge to the left. Trolleys carrying targets ran up the track on a narrow gauge rail system. Today there is silence .Can you imagine the noise when it was a training ground for combatants?” Her voice was wistful.   
“You really miss it, don’t you?” Serena gazed into Bernie’s eyes sadly. Though the months since Bernie’s completion of military service had been idyllic Serena knew that deep down her macho army major missed army life. The fear that Bernie might once again leave her was still there, deep down, despite their engagement and assurances from Bernie that she was truly glad have left the forces.   
“It was such a huge part of my life,” Bernie replied thoughtfully, “I’m bound to look back on it nostalgically, the good parts, that is. It must be the same for you looking back on your surgical career.”  
“I think that writing the book has helped say goodbye to that life. That’s an idea Bernie, you should write a book!” Bernie laughed.  
“I’m not very good at writing anything but military reports.” Serena slipped her hands into Bernie’s.  
“I could ghost write. You could sit and tell me everything, from beginning to end, and I would write your memoir for you.”  
“You wouldn’t want to hear everything Serena, believe you me.”  
“You are so wrong. I know there are aspects of your life you hide from me, or consider too trivial to tell me, but I want to know every single tiny detail about you, Berenice Wolfe. Kiss me.” Their lips met.   
“What’s that,” Serena squealed. So wrapped up had they been in their embrace they had not noticed the approach of Meg and her son. While Meg maintained a respectful social distance, the pup had pressed himself up against Bernie while his long tail thrashed Serena’s leg.  
Roger rounded the stone outcrop. “Oh, I see,” he said, taking in their embrace. “Colin would approve of you two, I’m sure. Not a bad little view, is it?”   
“It is beautiful, certainly,” replied Serena, extricating herself from Bernie’s arms, “and we love the house, don’t we Bernie?”  
“We do. Though I really don’t think that we should make a hasty decision. We’ll go home to Cornwall and think carefully. We’ll get back to you very soon, I promise.”  
“Fair enough,” replied Roger, “It doesn’t do to rush these things. What about the pup?”  
“The pup?” the women asked in unison.  
“If you want him you can take him now. Save you coming back if you decide against the house.”  
“You did say that I could have a dog if I agreed to Tom the cat living with us,” Bernie said. “We haven’t got a bed for him, or a collar and lead, or any dog food,” Serena pointed out. “I’ll give you a collar and a piece of string,” Roger offered, “and a piece of blanket for him to lie on in the car, and a bag of mince for his dinner.”  
“Mince?”  
“Pet mince. Fifty pence a kilo from the butchers. Better than the canned rubbish in the shops.”  
By now Bernie was on her knees stroking the pup’s muzzle.  
“Has he got a name?” she asked.  
“Little ‘un ‘cos he was the runt.” The pup sniffed her hand delicately. “We’ll have to find you something more fitting,” she told him.  
“He was Colin’s favourite,” Roger said sadly. “We would have kept him if he’d lived.”  
“Colin!” exclaimed Bernie. “That’s what we’ll call him. Is that alright with you, Roger?”  
“That’s more than alright,” replied Roger. “Colin would be so pleased.”   
Colin spent the journey back to Cornwall at Serena’s feet in the footwell.  
“I expect Colin, Roger’s Colin, I mean, is the reason that Roger wanted to get rid of the pup, Colin, I mean,” Serena remarked perceptively. “Too many memories. The same reason that he is selling their home.”  
“A fresh start,” Bernie agreed, “like us.” She took her hand off the steering wheel and placed it momentarily on Serena’s knee. 

Darkness had fallen by the time the pair reached home. To their surprise a light could be seen through the living room window.  
“Who on earth can that be? wondered Serena.  
“Stay in the car!” ordered Bernie as she leapt out of the vehicle. She tried the door handle. It was unlocked. Stealthily she pushed open the door and looked around her into the interior. To both her relief and annoyance, there was Cameron slouched in the most comfortable armchair, his eyes glued to the television.  
“Cam, what on earth are you doing here?” He scrambled to his feet sheepishly.   
“I found your spare key beneath a flower pot. Not a very safe place to keep it Mum!”  
“It’s safe enough here. When did you arrive? How long are you here for? Why are you here?”  
“He batted away all but the last question. “I’ve come to say goodbye. I’m going to Dubai. Hey that rhymes.” He giggled and Bernie noticed a half empty bottle of her favourite whisky on the coffee table.   
“Dubai!”  
“Yes. I was head hunted!”  
“By whom?”  
“A chap I met at Holby before I left. He recruits NHS staff to work in hospitals abroad. A Doctor Nicholson Heath.”  
“Drew Nicholson Heath!” Serena squealed as she came into the house leading Colin on his length of string. “Oh my, what a dish!” Bernie scowled.  
“Sorry Bernie, I wouldn’t fall prey to his charms nowadays but back in the day he was really quite a catch!”  
“Obviously! It seems that he has lured my son to Dubai.”  
“Excellent news Cameron,” Serena congratulated him heartily. Too heartily, Bernie felt, as though she would be pleased to see him go.   
“Well done Cameron,” Bernie said in a more measured tone. “I am sure that it will be a very   
beneficial experience. This Doctor Nicholson Heath tracked you down, did he?” Cameron shifted his position. “Not exactly,” he admitted. “I contacted him. But he was pretty quick to snap me up! Charlotte’s getting married, by the way. Has she been in touch?”  
“Not very recently. Who is she marrying?”  
“A chap in her chambers. Simon something or other.” He yawned, continuing, “I’m tired. Do you mind if I kip in your spare room tonight? I’ll be off first thing; I’ve got a lot to organise. I just wanted to say goodbye.” Without waiting for a reply he kissed his mother. Bernie touched his cheek softly. “You go to bed Cam. Sleep well.”  
“Well well,” commented Serena drily. “Cameron in the Middle East and Charlotte a settled married woman.” Was there just a hint of envy in Serena’s voice?  
“Serena,” she said softly, “let’s take our cocoa up to bed.”  
The mention of the word ‘bed’ caused Colin to stand up, tail wagging.   
“No Colin,” Bernie spoke firmly to him. “Your bed is here.” She had laid his blanket on the floor underneath the kitchen table, providing him with a cocooned space where he might feel safe.   
“You are not going to sleep with us. You would disturb us. Besides, there are things you might witness which might disturb you. Goodnight.” She took Serena’s hand and led her to the staircase. Serena giggled.   
To be continued


	8. Calm before a storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Serena have made the decision to buy Roger's farmhouse. This chapter sees them settling in and and revelling in the beauty of their new surroundings. At last they have the time to plan their wedding. Life is good. Until someone from the past appears .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks,  
> Thankyou to all of you who have left kudos. I hope that you continue to enjoy this story. I decided to skip the boring details of moving and write about our favourite couple having made the move to Wales. I intended this to be the final chapter and we would leave Bernie and Serena living happily ever after but I couldn't resist introducing a little cliff hanger. Enjoy.

A damp autumnal mist drifted across the peaks of the Black Mountains. Bernie pulled on Wellingtons and a fleece then whistled for Colin who was scampering around the edge of the paddock in search of rabbits. The pup hurtled towards her, tail thrashing the air in pleasure. He pranced around her ankles as she strode across the yard to the bunkhouse. Though Colin accepted Serena’s small demonstrations of affection, allowing her to scratch gently between his ears, he made no pretence of his utter devotion to Bernie. Banned from the bedroom, he spent his nights on the landing. The slightest sound from behind the closed door he was alert, one eye open. When Bernie emerged in the morning tousled haired, Colin was ecstatic, pressing himself against her legs, tail thumping wildly, ready to join her in whatever activities she had planned for the day. Twice a week they visited a local farmer who was teaching Colin how to herd sheep and Bernie how to instruct Colin.  
Six months had elapsed Bernie and Serena had agreed to buy the farm from Roger Morgan. Roger had intended selling his small flock of Beulah Speckled Face sheep at auction. Bernie had other ideas.  
“Colin is a sheepdog,” she had declared. “He needs a flock to shepherd!”  
“Bernie, are you mad?” Serena had protested. “We’ve already taken on a dog. Surely that’s enough without adopting a flock of sheep!”  
“I never do things by halves Serena, you should know that by now. If we are going to buy a Welsh farmhouse we must have a flock of Welsh sheep to farm.” Serena raised her eyebrows.  
“Do you know anything at all about sheep farming?” she asked.  
“Not yet, but I’ll learn, believe me.” Serena gave in. True to her word Bernie subsequently studied sheep farming with the same thoroughness she had devoted to the study of medicine and military strategy. She read books and on-line articles and took a course in sheep management. She also made herself known to the local farmers who fell over one another to advise the attractive blonde, causing Serena to narrow her eyes and say through gritted teeth, “Hands off, Rhys Morgan (or whoever it was at that particular moment) she’s mine.”  
As Bernie passed the bunkhouse she rang the brass bell which hung on the outer wall and yelled “Breakfast,” in a majorly voice. A few voices called out in response. Satisfied that the scout group would soon be sitting down in the large kitchen fortifying themselves with one of Serena’s Welsh breakfasts Bernie vaulted the fence and trooped up the hillside to inspect the flock. The morning walk from the farmhouse never failed to elicit a little gasp of happiness and a silent thanks to the fates which had finally brought her here to this idyllic life with Serena.  
Once the decision was made events unfolded at a rapid pace. Serena’s house in a desirable suburb of Holby had sold quickly. Bernie had helped Serena to triage her belongings – things which she cherished and had to bring to Wales, stuff which was neither useful nor beautiful, and thirdly, by far the largest category, items which she was unsure about. Eventually however Serena’s life in Holby was dismantled, packed up and sent on its way, either to Wales or to one of the many charity shops which graced Holby’s High Street. Jason and Greta benefitted from chic furniture which would be out of place in a farmhouse. Bernie’s nomadic military life and the fact that she had left the contents of her marital home to Marcus meant that she had fewer possessions to deal with. They had furnished the farmhouse with finds in second hand shops in Brecon and Hay. They had contracted the services of a local painter and decorator to smarten up the bunkhouse and replaced the old iron bedsteads and lumpy mattresses with modern equivalents. They planned to accommodate groups of walkers and those pursuing the many outdoor activities on offer in the area. The scouts currently lodged in the bunkhouse were their first guests.  
The scouts had breakfasted and were in the yard putting on their walking boots by the time Bernie returned from her flock inspection.  
“Good Morning,” she saluted them. “Where are you off to today?”  
“Rhos Fawr.”  
“Ah, the Big Moor. You’ll pass the Witches’ Pool where witches were drowned in medieval times.”  
“Really?” the youngsters asked wide-eyed.  
“So they say,” Bernie replied jauntily.”Believe if you will!”  
The farmhouse kitchen still held the delightful aroma of bacon. Bernie, whose culinary skills left a great deal to be desired, was grateful that Serena had volunteered to provide the breakfasts for their guests, and substantial packed lunches if they were wanted. Bernie’s heart still somersaulted at the sight of Serena, more often than not devoid of makeup nowadays. This morning the autumn sun streamed in through the window creating a halo around her hair. She was on the phone, Tom the cat, who was to Serena what Colin was to Bernie, draped over her shoulder.  
“Next week,” she said, “twelve cadets? Let me check the diary.” She looked up and winked at Bernie before speaking again. “Yes we can squeeze you in on those dates. Wonderful, I look forward to meeting you.” She turned to Bernie, eyes sparkling.  
“Our second booking darling. Twelve young members of the Cadet Corps at a school in Brecon together with two commanding officers. You should find something to chat to about. Enthral them with tales of your military adventures.” Bernie blushed.  
“Stop teasing Serena. You Know I hate talking about my medals. Besides I feel so content here that the army just seems like a dream. Do you need anything from town? I need to call in at the vets for some antibiotic. A couple of the ewes seem to have pizzle rot.” Serena squealed with laughter, causing Tom to take fright and leap to the floor. He ran through the open door, emitting a forceful hiss at Colin as he passed.  
“ Tom, there's no need for bad manners," Serena scolded him. "Pizzle rot? What on earth is that?”  
“Inflammation of the vulva. Possibly picked up from the ram when they were serviced. It’s basically an STD.”  
“Poor sheep! Thank goodness they have you to sort them out. I don’t expect you envisaged yourself examining the private parts of sheep when you were picking up those prizes at Med. School. Oh Bernie, I shall start calling you Bo-Peep?” The image of Bernie dressed in a smock and bonnet caused them to break into convulsions of laughter which ended with Serena falling breathlessly into Bernie’s arms.  
“Serena,” Bernie said, stroking her dark hair. “I do love you." "I love you too," responded Serena. "Bernie, this house move happened so suddenly after our holiday in Italy we’ve hardly had time to talk about our wedding. If it wasn’t for the ring on my finger I would think I had imagined your proposal of marriage. Do you think that now we have this place up and running we could start to plan our wedding?”  
Bernie frowned, "yes, we should, but where?" 

The scout troop left a few days later with a promise to return the following year. Bernie and Serena spent the afternoon after their departure readying the bunkhouse for the arrival of the cadet corps the following morning. Despite the mundane nature of the tasks they enjoyed working together, silently assisting one another to insert duvets into covers and tighten crisp white undersheets which they then secured with neat hospital corners.  
“Were you ever taught how to make a bed?” Bernie asked Serena.  
“Never! Picked it up from watching the nurses and perfected the technique with Elinor. She was such a restless sleeper she often ended up with all her bedding in a heap on the floor. What about you?”  
“We had to learn fast as part of basic training at Sandhurst. Failure to make a bed correctly was an offence enough to prevent one from progressing to the next level.” Bernie gazed out of the window towards the hills. “Of course, Sandhurst was pretty tame, just leadership skills. The real combat training took place around this area. I never thought at the time I’d ever be living here. Funny how life turns out isn’t it?”  
“It certainly is,” agreed Serena, “and I am so happy that it has turned out this way after all that’s happened since you fixed my engine in the car park. I think I recognised in that instant that you were going to be someone very special, I just didn’t realise how special.”  
“Same here,” replied Bernie, who was not so comfortable expressing her feelings verbally. She found physical demonstrations easier, and so pulled Serena into her arms and sank down with her onto the nearest, as yet unmade, bed.  
That evening they curled up together on the squashy living room re-searching and rejecting possible wedding venues. “Why can’t we just get married here,” Bernie said irritably, "I don't want a big fuss anyway."  
“We don’t have a licence,” Serena reminded her. “It’s fine to hold a reception here but we can’t actually get married. Not without a licence.”  
“Ridiculous!” exclaimed Bernie petulantly. “Can we hold the reception here at least? Not a traditional reception, just a jolly good party with the all people we like best. Guests can camp out in the bunkhouse afterwards.”  
“What a splendid idea!” Serena clapped her hands. “But where will we actually get married?”  
“Why don’t you and I just slip away to the nearest registry office and tie the knot beforehand?” asked Bernie. “No fuss or bother, just you and I promising to love one another for eternity. We could ask Roger to be one of the witnesses.”  
“Perfect!” was the muffled reply as their lips met. 

Bernie hummed softly as she hammered new posts into the ground around the paddock. Serena watched from the window, not for the first time admiring Bernie’s toned shoulders and biceps. The physical work of the farm had helped her to rebuild the strength she had lost during six months of enforced idleness in captivity followed by a desk job in Exeter. Serena gave thanks for the thousandth time to a god she didn’t believe in that Bernie had been delivered back into her arms and her life. It was a perfect autumn day. Serena planned to spend it making jam from the late marrows she had successfully grown despite Roger’s warning that the ground here was too cold.  
She had chosen a spot beside a south facing wall for protection from the cool winds that blew across the valley and had invested in some good cold frames in which to start off her darlings. The resulting crop was quite creditable, she thought.  
She set about slicing and deseeding the marrows with precision of the top trauma surgeon she was. Two covered trucks carrying the cadets and their equipment rattled into the yard, pulling up noisily in front of the bunkhouse. Serena left the bunkhouse and crossed the yard to greet the new arrivals. A handsome soldier jumped down from the first truck and shouted a greeting. Serena flashed him a brilliant smile. Though she loved Bernie to distraction she could not help flirting with a good looking man. Bernie laid down her axe and straightened her back.  
“Good morning,” she said courteously rather than flirtatiously. As she spoke a second officer leapt from the truck and walked around the vehicle to where Serena and Bernie stood.  
“Bloody hell Bern, what are you doing here?” the officer exclaimed incredulously. Bernie blanched. Serena’s stomach lurched. For the speaker was none other than Captain Alex Dawson.


	9. Green-eyed monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Dawson has turned up at Bernie and Serena's new abode. Tnough Bernie assures Serena that she isnot in love with Alex, Serena cannot help feeling jealous, especially when Bernie goes out of her way to help Alex.

School Staff Instructor Huw Williams studied the faces of the three women, acutely aware of the tension between them. Bernie was the first to break the silence. “Could ask you the same question,” she murmured. “I invited her,” the school instructor explained. “With a mixed group I needed a female leader and none of the suitable teachers could spare the time away from school. Captain Dawson and I worked together in Cyprus and The Sudan. I bumped into her at the Reserve Training Centre in Crickhowell when I took a group of cadets there for an open day.” “Still doesn’t explain what you are doing in Crickhowell,” Bernie said quietly. “It’s only temporary,” Alex explained. “I injured my leg. Serena fixed it, didn’t she tell you?” “Yes of course she did.” “It was still giving me gip when the company went back to Basra so I was posted to the Training Centre for a year. I should be back in active service next month. I’ve got leave to use up so when Huw asked me to help out on this trip I thought “why not?” “Why not indeed?” commented Serena drily. There was a silence as each of the women studied one another’s faces. . “I’m Lieutenant Huw Williams, ex REME, by the way,” the uniformed instructor took advantage of the silence to introduce himself. “I’ve known Alex for years. I left the army in 2016, moved back to Wales and bought a garage business. I run the CCF at the school in my spare time.” “Bernie Wolfe, ex Major Wolfe of the RAMC.” Lieutenant Williams whistled under his breath. Serena began to feel extremely irritated by this cabalistic conversation. “Serena Campbell,” she barked, “Bernie’s partner.” “Pleased to meet you both.” The handsome lieutenant shook hands with both Bernie and Serena before turning back to his cadets. “Come on you lot,” he shouted, “out you get. Start unloading the kit.” Alex turned to Serena. “Good to see you again Serena,” she said gruffly before turning to Bernie. Serena watched their faces intently. Alex’s eyes were searching. Bernie’s eyes lingered on Alex’s face longer than was necessary. “You look well, Bernie,” Alex said. “You too.” They refrained from hugging, instead shaking hands. Serena was sure that Alex put undue pressure on Bernie’s hand. “Well Alex,” Serena intervened, “I expect that you and Lieutenant Williams will be keen to get your charges settled in and as you can see Bernie has to fix the paddock fence. Come, I’ll show you the Bunkhouse.” # After showing the group their accommodation and explaining the breakfast and packed lunch arrangements Serena returned to her jam making. She sliced into the marrow flesh angrily, blinking back the involuntary tears which stung her eyes. It really wasn’t fair that just as she and Bernie had settled down to an idyllic life together, this woman, Bernie’s former lover, should turn up. Despite reminding herself of Alex’s words; “It was you Serena, who was the love of her life. I could never match you,” she couldn’t help resenting the shared history and military camaraderie between the two soldiers. Bernie meanwhile continued to hammer posts into the ground. She swung the hammer angrily. She hadn’t seen Alex since before the explosion. By the time she had been released from captivity and come home to Serena’s arms, her old battalion was on the far side of the globe, presumably with Alex amongst them. When Bernie’s release became common knowledge she had received messages of support from various colleagues including a brief e-mail from Alex. The brevity of the message had hurt even though her relationship with Alex was well and truly over at the time of the explosion. They had restarted their affair when Bernie returned to the Field Hospital but it had been short-lived. Alex’s need for commitment had brought home to Bernie how much she loved Serena, that she could not contemplate living her life with anyone else. If Serena did not want her, so be it; she would remain single. Still, given she and Alex had been so close, having shared so many close shaves in the field, Bernie had expected more than a few lines of typescript; and to find out now that she had not had the excuse of being at the far side of the globe but rather in Crickhowell! That did hurt. “It’s not that I still love her,” she mused. “I’ve never loved anyone as I love Serena and never will. But Alex was there when it happened. She knows how we were trained to deal with being taken prisoner; I could have told Alex about the horror of it, scenes I witnessed which I’ve never been able to tell Serena about for fear of causing her pain.” A hubbub of excited voices made her look up. The Cadet Corps was assembling outside the bunkhouse. Of course, Bernie remembered, the group had arranged to spend their first afternoon caning on the nearby lake. Alex looked across the yard towards Bernie and raised her right hand, maintaining the stance until Bernie, as senior officer, returned the salute. # Serena was tight-lipped when Bernie returned to the farmhouse announcing that she was starving. “Gosh, that’s a lot of jam you’ve made, it will keep us going right through the winter. Can I try some?” She proceeded to cut a hefty slice of bread from the crusty loaf standing on the table. “Help yourself.” “I saw the cadets set off. They’re canoeing this afternoon.” Serena remained silent. “I’m going to buy salt lick,” Bernie persisted. “I might stop at the lake on the way back. See how they are getting on. Want to come?” This was altogether too much for Serena. “Why on earth would I want to come and watch you staring puppy-dog eyed at your ex girlfriend?” she snapped. “Whoa, Serena, I only thought as it’s a sunny afternoon you might like to come with me and Colin for walk around the lake. If we see the youngsters we’ll give them a wave. If you’ve other plans I’ll go on my own.” Like hell you will, thought Serena changing her mind rapidly. If Bernie was going to trailing after Alex bloody Dawson then Serena was going I’m coming with her. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “A walk would be lovely.” # So it was that Bernie and Serena walked hand in hand around Llangorse lake in the autumn sunshine while Colin ran ahead dipping in and out of the water. A flotilla of canoes could be seen out on the lake. Bernie squinted, the better to see the figures in the canoes. “How strange that Alex has been so close all this time,” Bernie mused. “I had a message from her after I was released but I assumed that she was back with the regiment.” “I expect she realised that you were recovering with me and felt it best to leave you in peace,” Serena said. “The best thing to do in my opinion. You were in such a state you just needed peace and quiet.” Bernie was silent. “I’m sorry for being so snappy, Bernie. I shouldn’t be jealous, it’s not an attractive trait, I know, but I just can’t bear the thought of you and her together. Wouldn’t you feel the same way if Robbie turned up?” Bernie’s brow was furrowed as she considered the question. “I don’t think so Serena. I hope I wouldn’t. Knowing you as I do now, I really can’t imagine that you would be overcome with passion for Robbie.” Serena giggled despite her tetchiness. “Oh Bernie, of course I could never again be attracted to Robbie. But Alex is slim, toned, fit, younger than me; besides which, hearing you, Alex and Huw Williams talking army talk made me feel as though you three belong to a club from which I am excluded. You were twenty five years in the army; it’s in your blood. I can’t help feeling that you’ll always be a soldier and there’s part of you that Alex knows and understands far better than I do.” Bernie shook her head slowly. “You are beautiful Serena,” Bernie reassured her, “and you know everything about me, I promise.” Yet even as she spoke Bernie knew that Serena was right. # Over the next few days Serena did her best to suppress her feelings of jealousy while Bernie tried to dispel Serena’s fears by keeping out of Alex’s way. Alex had the good sense to keep a low profile. Whatever she felt for Bernie, she had to accept that Bernie’s heart had been given fully to Serena Wendy Campbell with whom she, Captain Alexandra Dawson, could never compete. It hurt though, knowing that she was so near. Fortunately Alex had never been a fan of large cooked breakfasts, preferring to start her day with coffee and toast in the bunkhouse kitchen thereby avoiding contact with Bernie. Supervising a dozen lively teenagers kept her and Huw busy all day and well into the evening by which time all the two leaders had energy for was to crack open a couple of beers before retiring to their respective bunks. Here Alex lay and imagined Bernie across the yard, her legs tangled with Serena’s On Thursday the heavens opened as they only can in Wales. The mountain streams swelled and rushed down the hillsides from all directions, filling the Ennig with unprecedented speed. The bridge in Talgarth was submerged causing the youngster’s trip to the Black Mountain Cycling Centre to be cancelled. Instead they had donned waterproofs and set off in the truck to the start of a safe, though, wet circular walk. “Rather them than me,” Serena said when Bernie and Colin came back into the kitchen, water pooling about their feet, after bringing the flock into the barn for safety, “They’ll be soaked to the skin. “Good experience for them,” Bernie chuckled hard heartedly, stripping off her waterproofs. “I’m soaked to the skin to but I couldn’t leave the sheep out, the stream is so high that the field will likely be flooded.” She peeled off her jeans and tee shirt, leaving them too in an untidy heap on the floor. “Let me dry you.” Serena came towards her with a large towel with which she enveloped Bernie. Bernie closed her eyes and submitted to Serena’s vigorous towelling. “Can we go back to bed?” she asked in a whisper. # Mountain weather changes dramatically and by mid afternoon the rain had ceased, the sun was shining and white clouds were scudding across a blue sky. The truck carrying the splashed through the puddles in the yard and drew up in front of the bunkhouse. Twelve bedraggled but cheerful youngsters leapt from the back of the truck and began to divest themselves of boots and waterproofs. Two equally bedraggled leaders jumped from the cab. Despite the unease which Alex’s presence was causing Serena she could not help sympathising with soaking group. “They do look very wet,” she said. “I’ll make a big pot of tea. You can take it over to them with a loaf and a pot of my marrow jam.” “Serena Campbell, what has brought on this change of heart?” “Seeing those poor wet youngsters. And perhaps having you all to myself this morning,” Serena purred, slipping her hands into the back pockets of Bernie’s jeans and pulling her close. # Serena woke the following morning feeling that a weight had been lifted from her chest. Today was to be the cadets’ last. To round off their week of outdoor pursuits they were going to climb the four peaks of Corn Du, Pen y Van, Cribyn and Fan-Y-Big. Not only that, but they would be carrying lightweight tents and provisions in order to set an overnight camp somewhere near the final summit. They would return the following morning just to collect their belongings from the bunkhouse before travelling home. Alex Dawson would be heading back to Crickhowell and from thence would rejoin her regiment, far away from Bernie. # Bernie woke with a sense of despondency. She had respected Serena’s feelings, kept herself busy and out of the way of Alex and Huw. Their conversation upon Alex’s arrival had been stilted, both of them inhibited by the presence of Serena and Huw. Bernie was sure that she no longer loved Alex; when she spotted Alex from across the yard she no longer felt attracted physically to the muscular, boyish figure. Oh no, all she longed for was to be enveloped in Serena’s arms, to feel the warmth of Serena’s soft body and to inhale her perfume. However, the fact remained that if Alex were to disappear without the two of them speaking properly, in private, then Bernie would regret the lost opportunity. She felt a need to speak to Alex about her silence but more importantly about what had happened that day the bomb had exploded, the chain of events which had led to her waking up on the floor of a truck driven by Somalian terrorists. Perhaps she would be able to catch Alex alone while the others were at breakfast, ask her to meet for a drink at the pub before she left for Crickhowell. She rolled out of bed and pulled on her jeans. # Two of the cadets who she had come to know as Rhys and Arthur looked glum as they scraped the previous day’s mud from their boots. “Good morning,” she greeted them, “why the long faces. Not looking forward to the trek?” “It’s been called off, we’re probably going home later today.” Rhys explained. “Lieutenant Williams is ill and Captain Dawson can’t take us overnight camping alone.” “Bad luck! What’s wrong with him? asked Bernie. “Nothing serious I hope.” “Man ‘flu,” said Alex unsympathetically as she emerged from the bunkhouse. “He had a cold when we arrived and that drenching we had yesterday didn’t do him any good. He has a temperature and a sore throat.” “ Sure it isn’t Covid?” “Probably not, but he’s taken swabs and sent them off to the lab to be sure. Meanwhile it’s best for me to keep the kids outside as much as possible until I take them home.” “It’s a shame for them to miss out on their final expedition,” Bernie said. “I don’t suppose you’d come with me?” Alex asked tentatively. “There wouldn’t be any problem, you’re still a Major and no-one’s better qualified than you.” Bernie hesitated. The temptation to shrug on her old military identity once more was too great. Though she knew, as soon as she uttered the words, “Sure, I’ll come with you.” That should have kept quiet. Serena was not going to be happy. “Would you? That would be great Bern. They’re nice kids, I hate to disappoint them.” Alex sounded so grateful; Bernie didn’t have the heart to retract her offer. “Sure. I’ll let Serena know and dig out my kit.” She set off across the yard with trepidation. # “I don’t mind being here alone overnight at all,” replied Serena in a clipped voice when Bernie asked her if she minded her going with Alex. “Goodness knows I’ve spent plenty of nights alone. You didn’t worry about me being alone when you skipped off to Nairobi. What makes it any different now? Oh no, you go and spend the night on a mountain with your ex-girlfriend!” “And twelve teenagers. I’ll take my own tent.” “I should hope so. Oh no, you go. I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied.” Serena swept out of the kitchen and stomped upstairs. # Tom the cat was asleep on the unmade bed; Bernie’s pillow bore the indentation where here head had lain. Serena picked up the pillow and buried her face in it, inhaling Bernie’s scent, feeling tears pricking her eyelids. The bedroom door opened gently and Bernie entered. “Bye Serena, I’m off. See you tomorrow morning.” Serena threw the pillow onto the bed and pretended to straighten the duvet, causing Tom to leap to the floor in disgust. “Goodbye.” Serena focused on the bedding. Bernie crossed the room to stand behind Serena. Taking her by the shoulders she pulled her round to face her. “I need a kiss goodbye.” Serena allowed Bernie to plant a kiss on her lips. “See you tomorrow,” Bernie said, and left. Serena listened to the sound of her army boots on the stairs, heard the kitchen door creak open and slam closed. She went to the window and watched Bernie cross the yard jauntily, a rucksack swinging from one shoulder, looking every inch a soldier. Tom wrapped himself around Serena’s ankles. “Oh Tom,” she sniffed, picking him up and stroking his silky fur, “I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her. I really couldn’t bear it.”


	10. Sturm und Drang.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena and Bernie's quiet life has been interrupted by the arrival of Captain Alex Dawson and a local Army Cadet Corps.  
> Serena is jealous and worried that Bernie has not fully got over her love for either Alex or army life, especially when Bernie volunteers to accompany Alex and the corps on an overnight expedition.

<.  
Bernie pulled herself up into the front passenger seat. Bursts of laughter came from the rear where the cadets were seated on the side benches, their feet resting in their kit bags strewn in the central aisle. The smell of canvas and leather boots brought back a host of memories. When Alex jumped up into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition key Bernie felt decidedly wobbly. The smell of diesel fuel and the rumble of the engine transported her back to that day in the truck. Alex had been driving then. Her hands, which had been resting on her thighs, slid forwards. Bernie gripped her knees tightly, knuckles whitening. She closed her eyes and juddered her legs up and down, all the while telling herself silently, “Get a grip Bernie. You’re in Wales, you’re with Alex. Nothing bad is going to happen.”  
“Are you alright Bern? No, you’re not are you?” Alex swung the truck expertly off the road into a lay-by.  
“What’s wrong Captain, why have you stopped?” asked a voice from the back.  
“It’s alright. Major Wolfe feels ill. Must be my driving.” A ripple of laughter travelled around the truck. Bernie took a deep breath, closed her eyes. “Sorry. I’m alright. Not been in a truck for months. Don’t know why it’s bothered me.” She forced a laugh. “ Sorry, I’m going to be a bloody awful co-leader, spooked by the noise of a truck.”  
“No you’re not.” Alex laid a soothing hand on Bernie’s thigh, briefly. “Sorry!” she said sharply We’ll be ditching the truck at Tal Fechan in any case.” Alex pulled her phone out of her pocket and swiped the screen a few times. “Here, plug this in, drown out the engine noise,” she said tossing the phone complete with dangling earphones to Bernie who inserted the earbuds gratefully and concentrated on the music issuing from them. Nevertheless she was aware of a cloud of anxiety threatening to envelop her and breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the car park and she could escape to the open air.  
“Everybody out,” ordered Alex. Bernie took out the earphones and jumped down from the cab. The sky was a clear blue; a red kite wheeled overhead and the bleating of sheep carried on the wind. The youngsters shouldered their rucksacks as did Bernie and Alex.  
“Okay troops, north to the reservoir; from there we take the left hand route to Corn Du, from there up to Pen-Y-Van. We’ll have a break for lunch there. I’ll lead. Major Wolfe will bring up the rear. Off we go!”  
As Bernie walked her panic attack subsided. “So bloody stupid of me,” she castigated herself, “I’ve really got to get a grip on myself. Somalia is all in the past. I’m safe here.”  
#  
Serena wondered how to fill the long hours until Bernie’s return.  
“You’re missing her too, aren’t you?” she said sympathetically to Colin who lay in his bed, head on his front paws, watching the door through which Bernie had disappeared. “It’s really too bad of her. She should have taken you with her, you love a long walk. It’s really very selfish of her, going off all day and night, leaving us behind. She doesn’t realize how much we love her.”  
She sank down beside Colin and stroked his head. “You’ll just have to put up with me walking you today. Where shall we go?”  
Recognising the word “walk” the pup rose from his bed, stretched and shook himself. Serena took his lead from the hook beside the door and they set off along the footpath from the house. Tom accompanied them, tail in the air, until they reached the tarmacadamed lane.  
“Shoo, go back home now Tom,” Serena said. “I don’t want you getting run over. I know we don’t get many cars around here but it only needs one to come around the corner unexpectedly.”  
Tom seemed to understand and leapt over the fence into the adjoining field. “He’s probably  
off to catch mice,” Serena said conversationally to Colin. She his lead onto his collar and laughed ruefully. This was what six months in the country had brought her to, conversing with the animals as though they could understand her. What would her old Holby colleagues think if they heard her?  
She was surprised at the wave of nostalgia which crept uninvited into her thoughts; she had thrived on those adrenalin inducing moments, when the life of a patient had depended on her skills, her decisions; the alerts major incident, the whole team tense, not knowing what to expect but ready and waiting to leap into action as soon as the first trolleys were rushed through those swing doors. She tried to remember the last exciting incident they’d had in Wales. Was it when one of Bernie’s precious sheep struggled to give birth? The two of them had managed to pull the little creature free, rubbed it down with straw until it began to breathe, handed it to its mother, smiled at one another. That had been a wonderful moment but hardly cutting edge vascular surgery.  
Was Bernie feeling the same? Was that the reason she had hared off up the mountain with Alex Dawson?  
#  
Once the anxiety Bernie had experienced in the truck subsided she began to enjoy the trek. The months of working with the sheep had rebuilt muscles which had wasted during her captivity. She breathed in the mountain air and took the steep ascent easily in great strides, encouraging the two youngsters who were lagging behind.  
“This first bit is the steepest,” she said. “It’s best to get the hardest part over first. You’ll find the rest a doddle after this. Turn around now and look at the view.”  
“Wow,” cried Rhiannon, “that’s great.”  
“Have you never been up here before?”  
“No. I shall come again though.” Bernie smiled at her. That’s what made trips like this worthwhile.  
#  
“How are you?” Alex asked, squatting down beside Bernie when they stopped for lunch.  
“Good,” replied Bernie.  
“Do you miss military life?” Bernie considered Alex’s question.  
“I don’t miss the routine,” she said carefully. “I don’t really miss the physical stuff, combat training and so forth. I get plenty of exercise looking after the sheep and the farmland. I really wouldn’t want to leave Serena for months on end. I’ve done with that. And yet...” her voice tailed off.  
“And yet what,” Alex probed.  
” Being with these youngsters is fun, reminds me of when we had to train a batch of new recruits. It was great to see them pass out at the end of their training. When I see news footage of the British Army in action in various locations I think of them and, if I’m honest, I get a twinge of envy, can’t help thinking how I’d deal with whatever situation they’re involved in. Still, that’s all in the past. Major Wolfe is no more.”  
“You’ll always be Major Wolfe.” Alex laid a hand on Bernie’s thigh. Bernie let it remain there.  
“Why didn’t you come and see me after I was released?”  
“No point. You were with Serena and you had made it very clear that I couldn’t compete.”  
At that moment two supersonic fighter jets screamed across the valley. Bernie automatically rolled herself into a ball, protecting her head with her arms. When the noise subsided she uncurled slowly. The cadets looked on bemused. Alex laid a steadying hand on Bernie’s arm and looked into her eyes. “You’re not totally alright are you?” She turned to her cadets. “And that was a demonstration of what to do should you come under sudden enemy fire. Thankyou Major Wolfe.”  
#  
Serena’s walk had taken her as far as the small town of Talgarth where she had bought flour for baking and eaten lunch in the garden of a riverside cafe. Colin had behaved impeccably, lying beside her chair surveying the comings and goings of the customers and staff. A young waitress brought him a bowl of water and Serena surreptitiously fed him bits of her Welsh Rarebit despite Bernie’s insistence that he should not be fed titbits from the table.  
“I’ll spoil you if I want,” Serena told Colin rebelliously. “She shouldn’t go off at a moment’s notice leaving you in my charge.”  
Suitably refreshed they set off for home. By the time they reached the farmhouse the rain had started again. She knocked on the door of the bunkhouse while passing.  
“Lieutenant Williams, Huw?” she called, opening the door slightly. He appeared at the top of the stairs. “How are you feeling?” she asked.  
“Not so bad,” he croaked.  
“Have everything you need? Paracetamol, plenty to drink?”  
“Yes, thanks.”  
“I’ll bring you some soup over later,” Serena told him, “and if you take a turn for the worse and need my medical advice call the house phone. The number is on the notice board.”  
“Thankyou, I will,” he replied gratefully.  
“I suppose he can’t help being ill,” Serena grumbled to Colin and Tom. “I don’t suppose it was a deliberate plot to get Bernie and Alex together, though it feels like it.” She turned up the oil-fired Aga and decided that as well as soup she would to make an apple crumble ready for Bernie’s return the following day.  
#  
While Serena was busy in the kitchen Bernie and Alex, having reached the summit of Fan-Y-Big were assessing the situation. Alex surveyed the grey skies and turned to the cadets.  
“We are going to go down the southern side a little way. There is a flat, sheltered spot where we can pitch the tents.”A gust of wind suddenly whipped around the mountainside.  
“I think we should go down,” Bernie advised. “Mountain weather can be treacherous." The youngsters voiced some disappointment. Alex disagreed with Bernie.  
“We’ll be fine, I’m sure, the tents are storm proof. Let’s wait until we get to the spot and take a rain check.”  
The initial descent was steep, the path slippery, especially so in the wet weather, the progress of the group slow. Alex picked her way carefully down the steep slope.  
“Watch your step,” she warned, “and for goodness sake don’t get too close to the edge.” Her words were carried into the air by another gust of wind. Bernie, at the rear, kept a watchful eye on the young troop. As always there were two or three who lagged behind. The path descended steeply and curved sharply, taking Alex and most of the troop out of Bernie’s sight. Ben, Rhiannon and Erin, the three slowest just in front of Bernie were laughing. Ben nudged Erin playfully.  
“Careful,” Bernie called out. Too late, for Erin lost her foothold.  
“Oh shit,” Ben called out.  
“Idiot,” Bernie yelled. Rhiannon screamed. Bernie looked fearfully over the edge. Fortunately Erin’s fall had been broken by a small ash tree. She was lodged on a protruding ledge, gripping the branches of the sapling. Bernie looked at her phone. “Fuck, no signal,” she muttered, calling Alex’s phone anyway. It was to no avail. “Have either of you two got a signal?” she asked.  
They did not. “Shall we go after Captain Dawson?” Ben asked. Bernie hesitated, decided against it. They were her responsibility. Besides she needed their help in reaching Erin. She took her safety rope from her rucksack and tied one end around her waist. The other end she coiled around a jagged rock.  
“I’m going down to Erin,” she told them. “Hold the rope; let it out gently as I go down.” She tried to recall the last time she had abseiled. Surely it was like riding a bike. Once you’d learnt you could do it again. Gingerly she lowered herself over the edge of the cliff.  
Erin was crying, partly through fear, partly through pain. “You’re okay, I’m here,” Bernie reassured her as she joined her on the ledge. She untied the rope and knotted it around Erin’s waist as well as her own. “Where do you hurt?”  
“My leg.” Bernie cut Erin’s trousers to reveal her leg bent at an unnatural angle and the bone protruding beneath the surface.  
“You’ve got a nasty break there,” Bernie said. “I’m going to have a little feel, see if I can straighten and splint it.” She managed to shrug her rucksack off her shoulders, praying that it would not shoot off the ledge, and retrieve her emergency splint kit. “Last time I did this,” she told Erin, “it was in Italy and I had to use some branches off a nearby tree.” That evening she had asked Serena to marry her. She smiled despite the current situation.  
“Is Erin alright?” Ben’s voice could be heard above.  
“Yes. But I’m going to need some help getting her back up to the top. I need you two to hurry along to Captain Dawson. Keep your eye on your phones as soon as you get a signal call for help. We need an air ambulance. These are the co-ordinates 51.88 North 3.43 West. Remember one each. What are they?  
“51.88 North,” replied Rhiannon.  
“And?”  
“3.43 West,” Ben answered.  
“Spot on. Off you go then. Be quick but careful,” Bernie barked. As she looked up at them she felt two large spots of rain on her cheek.  
#  
Serena looked out of the window at the horizontal rain. “They won’t be camping in this,” she assured Colin. “She’ll be home soon I’m sure.” Colin and Tom dozed beside the Aga. As well as the soup, which Huw had accepted gratefully , she had made a Bolognese sauce which now bubbled in a pan on the hotplate. An apple crumble was in the baking oven and a bottle of Shiraz stood open on the table. Serena called Bernie’s phone, feeling sure that she would answer and say cheerfully that the expedition had been called off, that they were only half an hour from home. Bernie’s phone was dead, however. Serena poured herself and early glass of Shiraz and sat down with her knitting.  
#  
“Erin,” Bernie said gently, “ You have what is called a displaced fracture. That means that your tibia, the bone at the front of your leg is broken and the two pieces of bone are not aligned. I’ve got an emergency splint here. It’s a very clever design, it’s inflatable, a bit like children’s’ swimming armbands. Once I’ve slipped it over your leg I’ll inflate it to keep the bone straight. It will feel tight but not painful. First of all though I have to make sure the bone is in the correct position. I’m afraid it will hurt but I’ll be as gentle as I can, is that alright?”  
“Yes,” Erin replied weakly. She gasped as Bernie tweaked the limb. “That’s the worst bit over,” she told Erin before applying the splint. “Now we just have to wait for a chopper to come and lift us off this ledge.”  
#  
Three more times Serena called Bernie’s phone. Three times she heard the clipped voice saying “This phone is not turned on.” Meanwhile the rain dripped rhythmically from the drainpipe. She cooked some spaghetti and attempted to eat although she had no appetite. She looked out of the window again; there was no let up in the rain. She gave herself a stern talking to;  
“Serena Campbell, stop worrying. A bit of rain never hurt anyone; their tents are army issue, waterproof, storm proof, everything proof. Bernie and Alex are quite capable of looking after themselves and a dozen teenagers, in fact they are probably enjoying the adventure. Tomorrow Alex will be gone.”  
Colin’s head jerked, his ears were upright, alert; he barked.  
“What can you hear Colin?” Serena asked, “are they back? She opened the door to hear not the sound of the truck but the drone of a search and rescue helicopter circling overhead


	11. The calm after the storm.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severe weather conditions bring a halt to Alex and Bernie's expedition. When one of the cadets had an accident on the mountain Bernie stays with her until help arrives and goes with her to the hospital - where Serena turns up, fearing the worst.  
> Circumstances lead to Bernie, Serena and Alex working together in the operating theatre. Alex accepts Bernie's love for Serena and tells her to stop dithering and marry Serena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The happy ending that has been asked for. I've really enjoyed writing this and I am glad that you have too.  
> I made some minor changes to chapters 9 and 10 before writing this final instalment. I'm happy that so many of you have enjoyed reading my take on Bernie and Serena. I'm taking a break from writing about them for a little while but may be back in the future if I get inspired for another story. Thanks for reading.

Bernie unrolled her foil blanket and tucked it around herself and Erin. As she did so, the girl vomited. “Sorry,” she murmured, “My head really hurts, I feel dizzy.” She closed her eyes.  
“Can you open your eyes for me Erin?” Bernie shone her torch into Erin’s eyes. The relief she felt when Erin’s pupils responded to the light was brief; in the fading daylight she had failed to notice the grey bruising around her eyes. She gently felt Erin’s skull, putting pressure on various points. “Does that hurt?” she asked in response to Erin’s sharp intake of breath.  
“Yes.”  
“Do you remember hitting your head when you fell?” she asked Erin.  
“Yes, on the edge when I first fell but then I landed and my leg hurt. Major Wolfe.”  
“Call me Bernie.”  
“Bernie, I’m cold. How long are we going to be stuck here?”  
“Don’t worry,” Bernie reassured the girl, “help will arrive soon, Captain Dawson will make sure of that, just as soon as Rhiannon and Ben catch up with her.”  
“Are you two alright?” Bernie looked upwards to see Alex’s face peering over the edge of the cliff face.  
“Yes. At least I am,” Bernie called back, “apart from being bloody cold and wanting a cigarette. Erin’s not so good; displaced fracture of the tibia and suspected basal skull fracture, temporal bone. GCS thirteen.”  
“Hang on in there. Chopper will be with you soon.”  
“Where are the youngsters? Should you have left them alone?”  
“I had to see how you were doing. The kids are fine. There’s a stone bothie down the track. I’ve left them there eating crisps and chocolate.”  
“You’d better get back to them, Erin and I are fine.”  
#  
Serena returned to her knitting. Tom jumped onto her shoulder and draped himself around her neck. Colin padded over and laid his head on her knees. Serena looked at the bottle of Shiraz and was tempted to pour herself another glass had not a voice in her head warned her against it. “I might regret it,” she thought, though she couldn’t say why.  
A sharp knock on the door caused Tom to leap from her shoulder and Colin to lift his head and bark with mock ferocity. Serena opened the door to Alex.  
“What’s wrong, where’s Bernie?”  
“Last time I saw her she was stuck on a ledge with one of the cadets, but don’t worry, she’s fine. The air ambulance is on its way. I’ve brought the rest of the corps back here. It’s too wet and wild to camp.”  
“Too wild and wet to camp and yet you’ve left Bernie out there stuck on a ledge!” Serena exploded. “I need to get to her. She might be hurt.”  
“I doubt it. Bernie’s tough. She told me to get back to the youngsters. I would have stayed with her if she’d asked.”  
“Bernie never asks, you should know that.” Serena was by now pulling on wellingtons.  
“Where is she?” she demanded of Alex.  
“Near the summit of Pen-Y-Van. The air ambulance will be there by now. The best thing is to go to the hospital. I’ll drive you.” Serena saw Alex glance at the Shiraz bottle.  
“I’m perfectly capable of driving thankyou,” Serena said sharply.  
“Sorry! I need to go to the hospital myself anyway to see Erin. She’s my responsibility after  
all.”  
“Shouldn’t you be staying with the rest of your troop?” Alex shook her head.  
“They are happily making beans on toast. They don’t need Huw to be around so long as he is on the premises in case of emergency.”  
“Then you can come with me in my car.” Serena was determined not to be indebted to Alex Dawson. Besides, hurtling along the lanes of Mid Wales as a passenger in a military truck would be sure to induce travel sickness.  
#  
Bernie crouched on ledge clinging tightly to the sapling which had broken Erin’s fall. The drone of the approaching air ambulance took her back to Nairobi. Her heart began to pound and she found herself sweating profusely despite the chilly evening. Her head swam. As the noise of the twin engines became louder she heard an explosion and a voice yelling at her to lie down. She looked skywards to see the dark form of the helicopter circling above her, and a human form attached to a harness descending. She covered her ears in an attempt to drown out the voice and concentrated on breathing deeply and steadily. As the panic subsided she remembered Erin; she should be monitoring her, for how long had she been caught up in the flashback? How could she be so negligent?  
“Erin,” said sharply, “speak to me.” She crawled along the ledge. Erin’s eyes were closed. “Erin, talk to me, don’t go to sleep,” she said urgently. The girl’s eyes flickered open. “Erin, the helicopter’s here. We’ll be winched off this ledge, you’ll soon be at the hospital.”  
Bernie glanced at her watch. She could have only been in a trance for a few moments even though it had seemed like forever.  
“Am I glad to see you,” she said with relief as Don Richards of the Beacons Mountain Rescue Team landed on the ledge beside her.  
#  
Serena knew the roads well enough to drive swiftly even in the wet conditions. Alex sat beside her in silence occasionally stealing a sideways glance at her worried face. The last time she had sat in Serena’s car they were both grieving the loss of Bernie. When Bernie had emerged from captivity, having been located by Serena, Alex’s joy had been tempered by sadness. Joy that Bernie was alive, sadness that Bernie belonged to Serena. She had been perfectly aware, when she and Bernie had rekindled their relationship in Nairobi, that Bernie had changed. Her heart was elsewhere; she could never replace Serena Campbell. “And Serena loves Bernie in the same way,” she thought to herself, seeing the emotion on Serena’s face. “Time to duck out once and for all, Captain Dawson.”  
Serena pulled to halt outside the A and E Department, leapt out of the car, barely waiting for Alex to get out before she locked the doors and pushed through the swing doors, Alex close on her heels. “Bernie Wolfe,” she gasped to the receptionist, “She was brought down off the mountain!”  
“I believe you have Erin Foster,” Alex said more calmly. “She is an army cadet. She got into trouble on Fan-Y-Big. I’m Captain Alex Dawson, the troop leader. Major Wolfe came in with her.”  
“Where is Major Wolfe?” asked Serena again.  
“I’m here. As she spoke Bernie appeared from the triage area and walked into Serena’s outstretched arms. “Bernie I’ve been so worried. When Alex said you were stranded on a ledge I imagined all sorts of things. I’m sorry that I was so cross this morning. You’re soaking. Let me get you home.” Bernie shook her head and disentangled herself from Serena’s arms.  
“I can’t go home yet, neither can you. I need you.”  
“What for Bernie? Is it the girl?” Bernie shook her head.  
“No, thankfully Erin will be fine. She is having a CT scan now and orthopaedics are standing by to pin her leg. But there has been a serious RTA and the trauma team is fully deployed because of the higher number of casualties caused by the storm. Max McGerry has asked me to act as emergency surgeon. I want to help but I don’t think I can do it. I haven’t operated since before being taken hostage. You could do it though; you were working in Cornwall right up until our move.”  
At that moment Max appeared carrying a clipboard and pen.  
“Serena,” she drawled, “though I hate to beg I really would appreciate you helping out. I’ve got the paperwork here for you to sign.”  
Serena looked at Bernie, the most talented, fearless surgeon she had ever met. She could not let her confidence ebb away. “I’ll do it,” she told Max, “but only if Bernie works with me. We’re a team.” Max shrugged. “Alright, If that’s what it takes. I’ll page an anaesthetist.”  
“No need,” Alex chimed in. “I’m Captain Dawson of the RMC and Fellow of the Royal College of Anaesthetists.” Serena was momentarily irritated before rational thought prompted her response;  
“She’s good, Max.”  
“Very well, sign here and go and scrub up. You’ll find clean sets of scrubs in the locker room.”  
#  
“What a night,” exclaimed Bernie four hours later as she pulled off her cap and mask. The  
three women had dealt with a lacerated spleen, collapsed lung and a case of compartment syndrome developing in a broken leg. Though tired physically her head was buzzing with the adrenalin of having performed surgery again.  
“Good work both of you,” Alex said gracefully. Though she had worked with Bernie on  
countless occasions it was the first time she had witnessed Bernie and Serena working together. Throughout the proceedings she had observed how each one seemed to know instinctively what the other was thinking; despite the tension in the operating theatre Bernie remained relaxed, Serena serene.  
“Thanks Alex,” Bernie replied, “and thank you too darling. It was like old times.” The two women gazed into one another’s eyes, arms encircling one another. Alex coughed.  
“Let’s go,” she said abruptly. “I don’t know about you but I’m knackered and I’ve got to drive twelve teenagers home first thing tomorrow, or should I say later this morning.”  
The short journey home was spent in silence, with Bernie and Serena sitting together in the back of the truck. As Alex pulled the truck up in the yard Colin’s bark could be heard from inside of the house. The door of the bunkhouse opened and Huw Williams opened the door, torch in hand.  
“Am I glad to see you,” he said, “I was wondering what on earth had happened. How is Erin?”  
“She’s fine,” Alex reassured him, “Her parents were informed turned up at the hospital before her op. I’m sorry I left you alone for so long Huw. Something came up. We were needed.”  
“How is your cold?” Serena enquired. Huw sniffed, “I’m bearing up,” he replied drily.  
“I’ll supervise the kids packing up.” Alex promised, “I’ll drive home too.” Huw retreated inside. Alex turned to Bernie and Serena. “I’ll say goodnight and goodbye. We’ll be away early and you two deserve a lie-in.”  
“Goodbye Alex,” Serena said. She touched Alex’s arm lightly and continued bravely, “do come and see us next time you happen to be in Crickhowell or hereabouts.” She tactfully crossed the yard, leaving Bernie and Alex to say goodbye.  
“Bye Bernie,” Alex said softly. “What a day it’s been. I’ll never forget you Bernie but I’m not a fool. I know that what we felt for one another can’t touch what you and Serena have. Be happy Bernie.” She kissed Bernie’s.  
“Be happy yourself, Alex,” Bernie replied. Alex took a few steps towards the bunkhouse, stopped and turned to Bernie once more.  
“and Bernie, one more thing, stop dithering. Serena loves you to distraction so just get on and marry her will you.”  
“Yes Captain, suggestion noted.” Bernie raised her right hand in salute.  
#  
Bernie awoke to the sound of multiple footsteps crunching on the gravel. She turned over to face Serena, watched the steady rise and fall of her breast and the half smile on her face. The cab doors of the Bedford truck were slammed closed, the engine turned over. Bernie heard the wheels receded as Alex drove away.  
Unable to resist the desire to make love to Serena any longer she rolled on top of her, ran her fingers through Serena’s bed-tousled hair and kissed her awake.  
“Bernie, what are you doing?” Serena asked.  
“Kissing you,” Bernie replied tracing the contours of Serena’s body with her finger tips.  
“Alex has left,” she whispered.  
“Good.”  
“Serena, did you really think that I would leave you and go back to Alex.”  
Serena’s eyes darkened as she looked at Bernie. “You’ve been distant,” she replied.  
“I’m sorry.” Bernie pressed herself closer to Serena. “I love you Serena, never doubt that.”  
“I think I was more worried that you would want to rejoin the army.”  
“Never. Now surgery is a different matter. I rather enjoyed last night, didn’t you?”  
“We always worked well together.”  
“And Max McGerry doesn’t seem quite the ogre she was at Holby City.”  
“Perhaps not,” Serena said grudgingly.  
“So we could,” whispered Bernie, kissing Serena’s throat, moving gently downwards to her  
breasts, “we could possibly reconsider our original idea of a job share, if a suitable post became available.”  
“We could. Bernie, what are you doing?” Bernie was progressing with gentle kisses across Serena’s gently rounded belly.  
“I couldn’t give up the sheep of course, and you mustn’t give up your garden.”  
“No,” Serena gasped as Bernie placed kisses on each of her inner thighs in turn.  
“But before we even consider it there is one very important thing we have to do.”  
“What’s that? Oh Bernie!” Bernie was now kissing between her legs. She ran her tongue around the rim of Serena’s entrance before lifting her head and saying,  
“Get married. ASAP. Agreed?”  
“I’ll agree to anything so long as you carry on what you are doing.” Serena reached down and twisted Bernie’s curls around her fingers, pulling her closer. Her Bernie, forever. 

Postscript

“To the happy couple!” Fletch raised his glass.  
“To the happy couple!” echoed the assembled guests. Bernie and Serena, hands locked, turned to one another and smiled. They had been married quietly that morning at the registry office in Talgarth with Fletch, Roger and of course Colin as witnesses.  
The barn had been transformed for the celebratory, with fairy lights, straw bales for seating and a bar provided by the local public house. Outside caterers provided a hog road and vast quantities of paella and a local ceilidh band hired to provide the entertainment. After a great deal of debate Serena wore the emerald dress while Bernie opted for a backless, sleeveless mid calf dress in the same colour which she found in a vintage shop in Hay.  
Serena looked fondly upon the gathering. Jason and Greta were dancing as a threesome together with little Guinevere. Charlotte and her young man were joining in Strip the Willow with more enthusiasm than grace. She felt sad for Bernie that Cameron had been unable to fly at short notice but at least he had sent Bernie a warm message of congratulations. Serena, despite her rational views, spoke silently to Elinor, “I hope that you are happy for me darling, wherever you are.”  
Bernie squeezed her hand. “Happy,” she mouthed.  
“Very,” Serena replied. Ric and his latest ladyfriend, in a foursome with Irene and John from the post office, galloped by, waving as he did so. “Let’s dance.” She took Bernie by the hand and led her towards their future.


End file.
